“The Voice of Autumn”


Cool bitter air whips your hair
Making it fly everywhere


The leaves are no match for the howling wind
They give up and as they fall to the ground, spin


The colorful leaves paint a canvas on the ground
Leaving the trees bare and dull scattered all around


The trees creak and sway as if trying to speak
But some stay rooted to the ground like they’re asleep

 Dry, frosted grass barely attached to the dirt
Some plants aren’t dying at all, but having a growth spurt

 Pumpkins have never been so orange before
It’s like an electric charge shot down to the core

 Smoky brick-red apples also come in neon green
So crisp and cool like never before seen


Squirrels dash around like they’re at the fair,
 Sampling little bits of everything here and there.


Autumn is not at all close to silent
It has a whispering voice, calm and nowhere near violent.