Summer has turned a corner,
I can feel it in the air.
Her expression is forlorner
Than it was in sun's hot glare.
The song of the cicadas
Has noticeably changed its key.
Cozy protective chrysalides
Have set the butterflies free.
Some of the trees have torn their gowns,
And several have yellow stains.
Stronger breezes tease their crowns
As they're drenched by September rains.
A subtle change is in the air,
Mellowed sunshine, warm, yet dry.
The aging earth smells like a prayer
Whispered in pine-needled sighs.
Squirrels are burying winter's store.
The herd of does are grazing.
Wood mice scurry on forest floor,
Hiding in underground mazes.
The fawns' spots begin to blend;
Their mothers' coats turn gray.
All are signs of season's end;
Summer is fading away.
Earth submits to the equinox;
The moon is full this year.
Farmers fear the killing frosts
And gather their harvests near.
Late afternoon the sun hangs on
With fingers long and grasping.
Shadows take over, and light is gone.
It's time for Autumn's unmasking.
by Heather J. Willis, author
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