The season that once burned has now grown cold,
And nature has left stains upon the leaves.
I see colors of red, orange and gold,
As they roll off of my shoulders and sleeves.
They collect in small piles on the ground
In picture perfect images of fall.
Wind causes them to scatter all around,
While I rake them together wide and tall.
I watch birds assembling on a wire,
Before they all fly south until next year.
Shivering while I sit close to a fire,
I find myself now loathing winter\'s near.
While snow falls during the cold Decembers,
I keep warm recalling autumn\'s embers.