Overcast, subdued, a preview of Fall
fills the air with a sense of silence,
Though emerald still swathes the hills, it’s easy
to picture maples draped with new flame.

Wild geese will soon vee, merely ritual
as they winter here, comfortable
with the abundance of green leaf and kernel,
ancient instincts for migration quelled.

This world is waiting for technicolor
of turning leaves and the great pumpkins
complacent in their burgeoning ripeness,
silently hoping to become pie

or jack-o-lantern, the best on the block.
Everything has dreams, even August
in increase when  subtle stilling of day
hints change, an awareness ere we sleep.

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