I felt the delicious nip

Of Fall’s breeze

On my nosetips, eyelashes, and cheeks

And blissfully savored

The tawny gold season.

Around me fell the leaves

Like butterflies winging down

Never to rise again.

The aureate and ochre fluttering

Of maple, birch and oak leaves

Screned me in an alcove

Of Mattisse Odalisque.

Squirrels skittered with mouths

Bulging with acorns;

Rabbits ran helter-skelter;

Flowers died and dried

And their stalks withered.

The trees stood divested

And exposed the empty nests

Left vacant by birds who migrate

At winter’s imminent arrival.

Life dwindled away

And I waited

In dormant thoughts 

For the next regeneration.