I walk amidst the quiet sounds
Autumn season, a time of stead
The stillness and the calm surrounds
The earth like a restful bed
Amid the quickening signs of decay
Still sleek and slender, though turning pale
Grasses once green, tall and straight
Now rest nonchalantly along the plane
Droplets on branches collect and bond
Increase in weight and hang like tatters
Softly glisten in the light of dawn
Then disperse and drop with a splatter
A scent familiar, across the landscape wafts
A scent familiar, yet strangely out of place
Like a call to home, and warmer thoughts
Yes! Cloves and cinnamon, I can almost taste!
[I experienced this while on a walk at the wetlands here. It was damp, misty, my favorite type of weather. Then, when I caught this scent . . . ]
Autumn season, a time of stead
The stillness and the calm surrounds
The earth like a restful bed
Amid the quickening signs of decay
Still sleek and slender, though turning pale
Grasses once green, tall and straight
Now rest nonchalantly along the plane
Droplets on branches collect and bond
Increase in weight and hang like tatters
Softly glisten in the light of dawn
Then disperse and drop with a splatter
A scent familiar, across the landscape wafts
A scent familiar, yet strangely out of place
Like a call to home, and warmer thoughts
Yes! Cloves and cinnamon, I can almost taste!
[I experienced this while on a walk at the wetlands here. It was damp, misty, my favorite type of weather. Then, when I caught this scent . . . ]