The Quiet Majesty Of Fall

Autumn Is The Time

Autumn is the time,

for writing,

with the skies grey,

and the fire stoked,

the cold coming,

the pages stretched out,

before you,

the leafless trees,

and the cold rain,

the ideas coaxed,

from under warm blankets,

Autumn is the time,

for writing.

Grey Weather

Waiting for winter,

grey skies bring the cold and rain,

and so it begins.

Wet

The world is quiet,

covered in drops,

from last night’s storm,

each step silently,

falling in,

rain beaten grass,

traveling in,

a wet world.

Leaves

The leaves are leaving,

like the pages torn from a book,

Deciduous theft

Autumn Yellow

Deep in the woods,

of Northern Michigan,

surrounded by,

oak trees,

and for a few weeks,

immersed,

in a million shades,

of yellow.

The First Snow

There are few,

moments,

more perfect,

than that which,

precede,

the first snow,

of the season,

seconds so quiet,

as though,

the whole world,

is standing still,

a brief interlude,

of absolute tranquility,

and then,

the snow begins,

to fall.