Autumn Storm by Greg Zemlansky
I step into the sunlight and feel the
cool fall breeze.
The sun rays alluring the beauty of
the colorful trees.
Distilled by frosty nights the leaves are
in prime fall colors.
The blowing wind chases the hapless
leaves as if they were a bunch of runaway
runners.
Autumn clouds have stirred-up a storm that
has etched the blue sky to darkness.
A growing dark closes in like some kind of
thick fog engulfing the solitude of wonderness
A distant mountain hunkered down in the mist
grizzled against the wetting sky.
A hear thunderous thunder and see a lightning
bolt with a flashing reply.
The maturing sun comes back after conspiring
the warm day to cease.
Wispy wind whips around the harvest fragrance
to release.
If for only a moment the fear of “Old Man Winter’s”
nasty sting.
Wonderment of how soon it will be here and what
snows will he bring.
