Autumn Comes

Autumn comes;
Enlivening scent from a hundred
Wood-burning stoves rises heavenward.

The air feels
Renewed, as if Earth has shed her old
Coverlets and put on clean starched sheets.

Though not cold,
The nipping wind brings a robust glow
To the cheeks of merry passers-by.

Stately trees,
Robed in brilliant vestures of scarlet,
Regard the wind's mischievous play with

Mild disdain,
Attending more to the fat squirrels
Dodging and gamboling in their boughs.

Overhead,
Throngs of geese fly in V-formation,
In quest of watery encampments.

Higher still,
The setting sun, kindly patriarch,
Sees all, and smiles benevolently.