OctPoWriMo, Day 5: The Changing Season

Today's word prompt: Chill, Changing, Aging

The Changing Season

It is here,

From MorgueFile

snuggled between the long sunny days
and the encroaching darkness--
the precarious time of year.

With a chill in the air
and the scent of dying leaves,
I can see almost to infinity
in the early morning hours.

The world every morning
is one grown weary with age.
Once they were bright green,
now the trees become paint brushes of
yellow ochre,
vermillion,
and burnt sienna.

The sky has now grown angry,
tarnished greyish and slate,

My Painted Lady Tree

after the azure of summer.
Clouds have taken over
making the aging sky ripe with Death.

As the temperatures drop,
and folks drape in sweaters
I feel the great pulse,
slower than before.
The earth is falling into slumber--
a hibernation.
I am swept into it's folds
and will not be released until the Solstice.



Come and visit my fellow OctPoWriMo-ers here!