Azure skies that gleam high overhead,
Thereís a new chill in the air,
Birds are gathering in large flocks now,
As they head south to somewhere.

A squirrel scolds at my prowling cats,
Who seem to think itís fun,
To interrupt his busy work,
Give chase to make him run.

The bird feeders that sat idle,
With no traffic there at all,
Now have to be replenished,
Just another sign of fall.

Thereís a V-formation flying,
In the skies up overhead,
Geese bound for a location,
Safe from winter that they dread.

Maple leaves in every color,
And every brilliant hue,
Now yellow, red and orange,
And even brown ones too.

Thereís a sense of joyful being,
At the change thatís in the air,
Butterflies check late blossoms,
For last taste of nectar there.

Trees and shrubs take on a bare look,
Their sap sinks slowly down,
To settle in for winter,
In deep refuge underground.

And while autumn may be short lived,
It holds winter still at bay,
Gives relief from summers fiery blast,
That held us in her sway.

Summer knows she must relinquish,
Her grip upon this land,
Old man Sol has packed his bag,
And they slink off, hand in hand.

© 2002 Loree (Mason) OíNeil

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