It feels like fall here. It’s rainy and quiet out on the balcony. I was inspired. The result is this poem that sounds like it could have been written by a 3-year old doped up on prescription medications.
From ehnmark on Flickr
All things must fade
And so must I,
The summer said,
And turned to fly.
She spread her iridescent wings,
And flew away to better things.
To beaches, scorched with beige-hued sands.
To tropic palm bespotted lands.
To picnic baskets full of gass,
To warmer places, summer passed.
She flew ahead of coming rains.
And left no butterflies in the plains.
She took with her warm sunset glows,
She cleared the trees ahead of snows.
She gathered deer, deep in the moss.
The woods then sighed, and marked their loss.
The sky-so blue and crystal clear,
Turned hazy, murky, shedding tear.
The grass, so green and shoulder-straight,
Turned inwards, and began to wait.
The flowers, roses, lost their thorns.
The squirrels, too, felt it, in acorns.
And all across the summer’s land,
Where warmth and laying in the sand;
Had once prevailed; now came the flood
The heavens cried, out crept the mud.
Out spread the foliage, dark and red,
Like deep wine bottles, spilled and bled.
Out came the quiet autumn calm:
Out came a different sort of sun.
Out came the muted leaf-lit woods;
And it was clear from where he stood.
The transformation was complete,
As every beast stored up their treats.
And as the raindrops slowly fell,
The land was his, Autumn could tell.