These Are My JOTtings, Part #2

The Fall

Crisper air bespeaks the fall.
On crunchy leaves, we walk.
The holidays with gifts and all
become our chattered talk.

The heat of summer will abate,
'til warmer clothes we wear.
The sun goes down. It seems so late
as night lights lift our care.

Too soon will Christmas come and go
as the new year starts afresh.
Will Jesus' Gift more humans know?
Or is it just a creche?

This southern fall is oft so late,
that Santa crunches forth
upon the colorful leaves so great,
that rivals presents' worth.

The summer's heat is so much less,
that 60 is quite cold.
For four months will we 30s bless,
'til winter is full told.

by Jay O’Toole
on October 4th, 2023