It embraces me
In its autumnal efforts,
And braces me
For the forces to come.

In the lightest times,
In some of the darkest days,
I am welcome to so many,
Yet I only see some.

I begin to fog those summer days
And the events in the midst,
The woodland animals come into view,
But I miss the grasshopper's hum.

In between the auburn leaves,
The glow of warmth still sets,
As I watch the end of summer die
And brush it under my thumb.