Autumn

A cold breeze wisps wintry air,
slowly returning the cycle full.
It reminds me of the tree green cry
as autumn brings the summer’s ending.

Look how moved the wood is, still;
it changes in place while the others remain.
There will be sadness when received the water bill;
it’s drought will shed red, yellow, and brown.

Memory of Autumn

A cold breeze wisps an overcast sky
into winter’s air, slowly returning.
It reminds me of the tree green cry,
as autumn brings this season’s ending.

Look how moved the wood is, still;
it changes in place while the others remain.
There will be sadness when received the water bills;
its drought will shed red, yellow and brown tears.