Fall has finally returned
From a
Long
Long
Trip.
She arrives at our doors
Her hair turning burnt red
A crisp breeze moves the leaves
That cover her head.
She arrives at our doors
The sound of her talking
Geese flying by
Excitedly squawking.
She arrives at our doors
With gifts in her hands
Apples, pinecones, and pumpkins
Cover our lands.
She arrives at our doors
And shares a radiant smile
Delicate afternoon light
That only lasts for a while.
She arrives at our doors
Sometimes softly crying
Yet the rain that she pours
Is beautiful, there’s no denying.
When she leaves our doors
The trees cold and bare
We can’t help but feel hopeful
For the next time she’ll be there.
Posted in response to the challenge Autumn '24: Writing.
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.