Chilled autumn air, why do you cover the night like a frigid prophetic winter blanket?
You drop the brightness of a warm fall day into a bucket of ice at night.
You start the trees creaking like old attic stairs,
and frost the panes of windows, like a broken old refrigerator.
I guess if there is one sweet thing you bring, it’s crunchy ripened apples and the brilliant hues of red, orange and yellow leaves that garment the forest trees.
Ok, I guess you can stay a while–but please don’t let old man winter follow you to close behind!