Dappled light, Autumn angled plays over my path,
golden leaves litter the ground, crisp, crunching
as I walk in the fading light, awed by nature’s
bounteous praise of decaying foliage that has
striven to provide the plethora of berries that
call waxwings, thrushes, warblers and jays.
Squirrels come for the nuts that litter the
colour hued leaves as they make a mosaic
to gladden my heart and ache for the skills
of an artist, who with brush and paint will
capture the moments that thrill with their
skills, and as the guiding light fades, frosty
breath flows and the harvest moon rises
to spread its silvery glow, greying the
paint box of fire capped bushes, which
waved like flames in the bold, cold breeze.