crickets chirp softly
the rain trickles down the trees
heater smells drift up
when the whistling wind
blows soft and fierce and hasty
crisp leaves tumble by
All the leaves strewn on the ground
Wet and brown and broken.
Crossing the street, I left a trail
Twin stripes of shining blacktop.
I found a tree stripped of its leaves
Stark naked in the sun.
A bed of autumn dampness at its feet
I took the meager comfort offered.
The cold presses against my skin
The wind peels it away.
Resting in the shade of spiny branches
Shadows of skeletal fingers.