Autumn’s Ode

I can smell the bonfires
Burning off the heat of summer
Charring the leaves
The chill descends to freeze the ground
And the white ghosts escape us walking up the hill
The sun seems brighter but lasts less long
There is anticipation in the air
A rush to bottle the ends before it’s too late
Autumn is a kiss before death
A lover’s last gift before the end of the affair
It’s ode to sunshine orange and loamy brown
It’s faded passion red and stony gray
Autumn sounds better but is less apropos than fall
Fall it does like a cold, wet coffin lid
Autumn is buxom sweaters, rosy cheeks and rushing gropes
Fall is broken pumpkins and stolen candy
Autumn is game winning triumph
Fall is bench warming boredom
Autumn is the last drop of juice from the final harvest
Fall murders summer and makes winter the accomplice

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