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Poem about the emotions produced by changing seasons |
| Harbingers of fall stealthily overtake us, barely noticed. Happily we delight in warm days and balmy nights. Sleepy summer sun retires early into evening slumber. Songbirds seem to startle reticent morning incrementally later. Already, brown leaves mingle with green grass clippings. Acorns be-litter wooden deck, fallen from giant green tree. Cooler air silently encroaches our world from northern chambers, Catching evening star by surprise, coldly wrapping her in nocturnal cloak. Written out of God's finger are inchoate transitions When trees' glorious chromatic transformations Rapidly give way to unrelenting winter grey. When nude tree skeletons, sentries standing silent, frozen, Watch new snow morph, to color-match sky forlorn. "Why art thou cast down, oh my soul?" Praise him whose hands make seasons, Who placed planets, painted Pleiades. Rejoice fallen leaves, pigmented trees, Wond'ringly sing snow, sleet, freezing rain, Awaiting sanguinely certain burgeoning of spring. |