Twas Those Seasons
On that day when green goes gray, When leaves descend and breezes take, A breathe away from tree and trunk, When lumps of ash seem lesser stunk. In mango skies with clouds amiss, From harsher winds that come to kiss, The shy and shining sun that broods, Along with vibrant waters blue, All remaining lovely hues. On that day when branches snap, And poking strangers, cackle back, To colder weeks in frosty meadows, Where birds chirped less and cozied mellow, Hoarding seeds like sheepish prey, But all for naught, to their dismay. On that day when green goes grey, When light had gone to find some shade, And darkness set the land ablaze.