Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday

I love autumn, especially in New York. The changing leaves, the crispness in the air… I can almost smell those marshmallow’s toasting now.

Autumn Leaves-Kerri Maniscalco

 

The autumn leaf falls like a ballerina twirls

Without a sound as it gently touches the ground

In beautiful poetic swirls

It paints a picture for me, Of a distant memory

Frozen in time like a black and white photo

The leaf has a story to tell

So beautiful in death

Like a penny thrown into

The depths of a wishing well

It’s color is so rich with burnt umber

With a slight crisp as I step across it

I begin to wonder

The winter wind is setting in

And another season has come to an end

Summer’s dead and gone

With the autumn leaves all around

Falling hopelessly imprisoned

As they hit the ground

Gracefully they float to the earth

As their beauty is forgotten

Their bodies lie like soldiers in a war

Crimson tides that have rotted

All across the winter’s floor.

I thought I’d finally written something uplifting. Then I was informed: “the leaves are lying in a pool of crimson – rotting like dead bodies. This is uplifting?” Well it WAS until you put it that way Debbie Downer. Thanks a lot.