Autumn comes in with paint brush at hand, with one wild sweep she will change all the land.

Leaves that are green will suddenly change brown, the ones that lose grip will come tumbling down.

For autumn is here she makes herself known, the sun has to go it was only on loan.

The birds have stopped singing not one little sound.

As she blows gently to bring in the cloud her duty is done, she really must go for she wants to escape the wind and the sun.

-Pat Farley, Newhaven