Fall has descended.
Her leaves are promiscuous with color.
Trees adorned in provocative hues
Are roused by the wind,
Shuddering and flirting with the sky’s blue.
It is the final act of autumn,
Casting off her verdant clothing.
Bare boughs stand unabashedly exposed,
Having already shed their foliage.
I love this season at dusk.
The setting sun illuminates
Likeminded shades in autumnal treetops.
There is visual resonance.
The twilight amplifies the colors.
November is both her decline and her peak.
Autumn falls into unpredictability.
Sometimes rain, sometimes brisk, sometimes sunny.
This is fall’s denouement,
Autumn’s seasonal release.
While winter waits impatiently in the wings,
Making us shiver before she comes.
Whispering her cold intentions through the wind,
She promises to chill,
She alludes to frost.