The leaves scatter to
weave a carpet on the ground
of crunchy colors.

Last day of beauty-
I fear the rain is coming
to wash away fall.

The red maple is
like sitting under stained glass
that moves in the wind.

The wasp is dying;
its faint buzzes and shutters
echo in the loft.

The leaves on the ground
swirl around like confetti-
late autumn's party.

The calm, slow Evening
watches as the sun goes down,
taking its sweet time.

Falling back again
into night as black as coal,
can't get my watch set.