Overcast, subdued, the splendor of fall
fills the air with a sense of hush.
Where emeralds once hued the hills
Maples are draped with new flame.
Wild geese vee, merely ritual;
now they winter here, comfortable
with abundant corn and greens
grown for their pleasure.
Ancient instincts for migration are stilled
like this world alight in technicolor
of turning leaves, dying vines and pumpkins
rotund in their ripeness, silently hoping
to be chosen for a pie or
jack-o-lantern, the best on the block.
Everything has dreams, especially in Autumn
on a still day when the silence suggests
the excitement of change,
an awakening, before that deep sleep.