Somewhere on the horizon
Between Summer and Winter
Lies a bridge named Autumn
That links them both together.

As warm turns to chilly cold,
And the leaves prepare to fall,
They turn red, orange, and gold
For a final round of applause.

Only Nature can pull this off.
A show of Death, so beautiful.
A bright and fiery curtain call.
Before She becomes icy cool.

As the air turns cold and crisp,
It’s time to wear the woolens,
And apples await to be picked
Along with plumpy pumpkins.

The fields yield their harvest.
Folks gather for Thanksgiving.
They remember the departed
On the day of spooky Halloween.

Autumn is a season of change.
It’s the season of letting go.
It screams of happiness in endings,
And celebrates Life’s perpetual flow.