Guitars are strumming,
folks are laughing,
joy is falling
with the season.
Blushing cheeks
match the changing
leaves, on the oaks,
and the maples.
It\'s been a while,
but I\'m wearing Mom-Mom\'s sweater,
and the streaks of soft fabric
resemble the patches of baby blue,
rosy pink, and puffy white
in the new-morning sky.
Air is sharp,
the sun shines bright,
my body is warm while I embrace
the cherry-red ceramic
with hot tea and honey.