Allegheny Autumn

Happy Thursday folks!

Today I wanted to share yet another Autumn poem. You must be tired of those. But honestly! I could write forever about the richness that is Fall. So here is

 

Allegheny Autumn

 

The sky is gray like dirty ice

and mars the sunlight into something

pale and pure and gray.

 

Rain falls as it may care to fall

and settles on the leaves of trees.

Emerald turning yellow.

 

The smell is crisp and peppery,

the pleasant scent of petrichor

rolling through the green.

 

The air is cool, but warm beneath

unlike the spring, when roles reverse,

back again in Autumn.

 

The sky is gray like dirty ice,

a conq’ring king soon to invade

pale and pure and gray.

 

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