Autumn

The cool crisp air echoes the season.
The fall of paper dry leaves rolling and spinning in the rivers of rain spread across the concrete landscape.
Winds whip through trees left bare with the blow of autumn and the passage of time.
Like molting birds, the trees spread their branches in recognition of the slow, sorrowful loss of their foliage.
The brisk breeze speaks to the coming cold that will soon pull our jackets around us, surround our throats with wool and leave our breath hanging in the wind.
The sun shines through the raw red of the final fleeting vegetation and the world smells of musty mold and dirt, as the earth descends into the dormancy of life.