The most beautiful season?
I think so,
Though others yearn
For crisp sheets of white
Remembering our footsteps
Or for the relief
Of clear skies and dry heat
Or for a shallow promise
Of new life that never quite
Lived up to its reputation.
Yes, who can fault the brilliance
Of fire-tinted trees?
Or the taste in the air
With that comforting bite?
And the way the sun sets
Taking its time to blaze the clouds
Into mellow haze.
Autumn, with her chill and dying,
Still glistens in my eyes.