Autumn

I wrote this poem for fall a few weeks ago while enjoying a pita out on the back porch. As I watched the sun gild dust motes and tiny insects in gold, the words came to me. Enjoy.

Autumn

Our shadows lengthen,

As the days wane,

A decaying palette,

Kindling

Leans against the back wall

Of an abandoned shed,

Tossed there,

Among stray cinderblocks.

Restless air

Shivers

With the approaching footfalls

of Autumn.

Cloaked in fire,

Bloody fingertips,

Guilty.

Of murder.

And proud.

With a laugh,

And a swish,

She throws her golden tresses,

Over her shoulder,

And looks the other way.