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Poems

Autumn

 A cool wind blows through the trees,

Sending away their precious leaves.

The elms and oaks, they let them go,

Like a mother bird watching her chicks leave home.

The leaves fly away beautifully adorned,

With shades of red, brown, yellow, and orange,

They fly through the air with bubbling laughter.

They even cackle when you step on them after!

The sky it turns a special shade of blue.

The sun, it smiles as it shines down on you.

The wind blows ‘round a bit,

Going every which way it deems fit.

Autumn, it’s that time of year!

The time for the World Series and camping trips.

Oh, how the time will quickly slip!

Time will slip into a new season as always,

But, for now at least, it stays Autumn.

--By Aryn Patrick