Beginning of Autumn
Green leaves painted gold by crimson sunsets
Swirling, twitching, still held by long arms.
First whisper of cool breezes
Strolling long awaited under bridges
And over foot made paths.
Song of crickets not yet gone
Up to the treetops and under the clouds.
First taste of Honey Crisp
Apples sweet, yet tart.
White streams pouring up
Hot tea, the most appropriate beverage.
Quiet from small creatures
A blessing among afternoon dreams
In beginning of autumn.