The backyard is vacant of family and friends
As cool winds lean gently and pear branches bend
The rich scent of lentil and turkey and bread
Surrounds the tall house and the leaves overhead
Not many are left, most now carpet the ground
But the last few still cling to the pear trees like crowns
The breeze pushes hard with a dull, forlorn drone
A fall canticle, a dark pre-winter moan
Inside all are gathered in warmth and in love
And stories are shared in the rooms up above
Past deeds and old tears have no weight to impart
For autumn cocoons and holds each in its heart