Autumn has fallen.
Bowed her umber head
On bended knee
In supplication

A new reign begins

The geese in formation flee
Their discordant cries
a perfect counterpoint
To their orderly V

The banished army of summer

Still Sunday mornings
Frostbitten silences
Shattered by the cacophony
of hunters' guns

Reaping the spoils

Hedgerows thickly laden
Berries of holly,
sloe, ivy, crabapple
After sweeter fruits are gone

Provide a bitter feast

Coldness brings clarity
Stripped away
of the raiment of summer
The bare vista in her true form

Naked, cold and beautiful

Only the strongest scents survive
The salt tang of the sea
The sharpness of evergreen
Joined now by a new one

The tingling promise of snow

Onward she sweeps
A glittering queen
Tracing filigree on
leaf, pond and pane

Marking her conquests

The world is struck numb,
Dumb
By this terrible beauty
This force of nature

Now is the cusp of Winter