Apples, red and green, spilling from the trees. Pulling pumpkins from the garden, everything’s deceased. Spices wafting up from pie, cobblers dripping oats, fruity cider with cinnamon, hot drinks begin to flow. Football games outdoors require hoods and fleece. Watch the breath mist out, squeezing hands up long sleeves. Smoke billows from houses as fireplacesContinue reading “Autumn (a Poem)”
Dawn Marie Paul Art & Books 