Monday, September 20, 2010

Autumn by Lucille Crumley

Autumn is the time that brings 
Birds going south on flyaway wings. 

Crickets that chirp in the flower bed, 
Sumac candles blazing red. 

Clusters of bittersweet on the vine, 
Apples, polished, and sweeter than wine. 

Chrysanthemums peeking through patterns of frost . . . 
Autumn is happiness without cost. 

The crunching of gold leaves under your feet, 
Crimson maples edging the street. 

The calling of geese from a twilight sky, 
Their wings in rhythm passing by. 

The chattering of squirrels to work in the trees, 
A tangy, smoke smell on evening breeze.

a football game when your team has won, 
Early frost shining in late morning sun. 

A harvest moon in a Halloween sky, 
One single bright star hanging high. 

Ghost stories at midnight, Thanksgiving Day, 
All this is autumn coming your way.

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