The Coming of Fall

24 Apr
The leaves began to turn today
Upon the soft bird's nest
The sky as pure as porcelain
Below the robin's chest

But why, oh why must berries hang
So vibrant and so warm
When to their touch and taste and song
My chest feels so forlorn

Shivering pleasure, oh such pleasure
Wavers winded on cool branches
What fools doth try to measure
While buried in heavy avalanches


Do tell.

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