Ah yes, my old friend Fall,
I knew you once as Autumn,
that ethereal time
when leaves take on
a fiery hue and dance
like frantic shoppers in the wind.
Our seasonal host,
the harvest king,
heaps the board with healthy fare,
holds the warmth of summer sun
in golden fruits with glowing cheeks,
paints the light and faded skies
in trails of cirrostratus lace.
The world’s a bright and kindly place
when our autumn guest returns
and settles us in ease and rest.
I know your game,
my two-faced friend.
Don’t think the morning frost
was way beneath my notice.
I see who hides behind your cheery mask
and freezes all he touches.
Old Man Winter cannot wait,
impatience finds him mischief.
He breaks your cover
to silver lawns and steal the nights,
his chilling calling cards.
In my autumn years my aching bones
and joints becoming frozen
have taught me Fall’s no friend.
He’s just ambassador, that’s all,
for mighty Winter’s painful reign.
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