Friday, September 22, 2017

First Autumn Morning

Day is creeping up from the horizon. I hear an acorn fall, tapping leaves and branches on it's way to the ground. Another follows, then another. In the air, the faint vinegary scent of overripe apples. A light winks across the sky, early travelers on their where? The plane is so high I hear no whisper of sound. A mile or so away a dog barks. A cock crows to chase the creeping evil night things back into the ground and shadows.

Autumn enters quietly, like a quiet sigh after the flamboyance and rush of summer. She will be flashy enough herself soon with brilliant gowns of scarlet and gold, but her arrival is like a shy understudy who will win the starring role in the end.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

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