Autumn’s Clarion Call
By Don Iannone
In October’s chill embrace,
Latter years bring wisdom’s grace,
A season of change, a time to face
The memories that we hold in place.
The trees, they don their golden hue,
A fiery blaze that fills the view,
The breeze carries scents of harvest and decay,
As nature’s cycle starts to sway.
The days grow shorter, nights grow long,
The stars appear, a twinkling throng,
The moon, a silver crescent smile,
A beacon in the autumn mile.
The air is crisp, the winds do howl,
A chill that bites, a story to be told,
Of seasons passed, of memories made,
In October’s chill, our hearts are playedThe leaves, they fall, a rustling sea,
A carpet of gold, a sight to see,
The trees, they stand, a test of time,
A reminder of nature’s rhyme.
Poetic Alchemist 