Friday, October 30, 2009
This Time of Year
These are the days of gold and blue
Of yellow, orange, and scarlet too.
Of chilly nights and clear, crisp days.
Of morning shrouded gray with haze.
Of chattering birds that congregate
On field and fence and garden gate.
Of pumpkins laying abandoned, lost
Since vines have felt the first, hard frost.
Of roses brightest of the year.
And rows of cornstalks, brown and sear.
Of rosy apples, juicy and sweet.
Of leaves that rustle at our feet.
Of low hung ribbons of smoke that glides
From burning leaves at eventide.
Of cold, gray mist that meets the dawn
That turns to rain before it's gone.
These are the days and all too few.
These autumn days of gold and blue.
Geraldine Kilgore Copyright 2009