(Inspired by Linda Chicoine)

The changing leaves.  The cooling breeze.

A spectacle of colors, like a parade, moves across the trees. 

Change is in the air.

Gone is the summer though I’m not sure where…

The days turn shorter and the nights are longer.

The harvest moon fills the darkened sky with brilliant light.

And with each passing day, the cold marches our way.

Soon the red, orange, and yellow leaves will all turn brown.

The winds of change tearing them to the ground. 

Our flowers will be lost to the imminent frost.

Slowly we will slip into winter’s grip.

The change of season brings it’s own rhyme.  And has it’s reason.

It’s like a never ending story that goes round and round.

Our lives will play out like the changing leaves that fall down.

Year after year, when autumn comes.