• I look at the horizon
    detailed and complex.
    Watching the wind throw the leaves
    from one tree to the next.

    The breeze that cast these leaves afar,
    Approaches me and tells a tale,
    of coming from the westward bay,
    and pushing on a lonely sail.

    It told of flowers that it had touched
    by showing me their scent so lush.
    It threw to me a gentle hand,
    hoping I would play it's game so grand.
    I joined the wind in its melancholy of fun,
    tossing it leaves, one by one.

    The breeze, it brushed my hair good-bye,
    as it picked up its leaves and started to fly.
    I watched it ride down,
    heading East to the night.
    I stood there in awe
    at the beautiful sight.

    The games we had played,
    The senses we shared,
    Is all part of fall,
    This autumn's fresh air.