over my shoulder the cold of autumn
creeps in with clouds
covering chill, clinging
smokey skies at dusk.
fingerholes of sunset peer
through the thickness,
turning leaves burnt rust;
crimson crashing gold and ochre
tumbling from limbs onto
damp,dewy dying grasses.
sun settles herself
beyond the horizon.
clouds catching ever deeper
shades of slate and ash,
blending blues and blushing pinks.
speckled spatter-drops
trickle swiftly from the sky
and usher in the quiet nightfall.
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remember that missing sock? you can't always blame the dryer. me? i blame the dustbunnies. they're organized, i tell you...
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