A swirling breeze blows,
across vacant spaces,
where butterflies once ,
rode humid waves,
on midsummer days .
Those colorful wanderers,
that once fluttered,
across open fields,
give way to multicolored
wisps of falling change.
Gone is the endless green,
that hung in the air.
Now brown and dry,
are the colors of the day.
Sun driven warmth,
that lingered well past dusk,
is now muted by the chill,
of the full harvest moon,
that hangs bright and cold,
in the night sky.
Nervous chatter of animals and fowl,
replace silent summer motion and flight.
In the distance, a robin calls out its departing song,
“Don’t linger, don’t linger long,
an icy frost is but a moments chill away.”