Fall

As I walk I hear the familiar crunch of leaves under my feet,

look around and embrace the beauty.

Dark greens, browns, oranges, yellows and reds

cover the ground, scattered around

broken and deformed, damp and smushed.

The trees naked and bare

branches rustle in the whispers of the wind

clouds gather and softly cry in the gloomy gray sky

as the familiar pitter-patter on the pumpkins begin.

As days pass on nights grow longer and colder

snow sprinkles the ground covering last seasons beauty.

Trees become darker, sadder waiting for warmth.

Everything so white and plain

I will never love a season so brutal, bitter and bare.

-Erin Kieley