The colors are fiercely bold and homely,
My eyes soaking in those scarlet-maple hands,
There she is; donning her most vibrant hues,
Sweeping into the streets and woodlands,
Her humble boldness inviting my sight,
To see more than I otherwise might.
Lining the trees with speckles of orange and red,
When the wind comes down, they delicately shed,
Fluttering down to the earth in a colorful rain,
Singing to the blue of the sky and the wind below,
Bidding farewell to sweet summers and beckoning autumn,
Feeding the soul and eyes, a feast of colors.
A myriad of shapes and sizes as they disrobe shy trees,
Dead it sure is, but it's dance was never more alive,
A tinge of chaos, making it entrancing as ever,
Autumn breeze joining hands with it to choreograph the show,
Tousling my hair into dainty, buoyant curls, and,
I inhale the fragrance of the sweet autumn trance.
