Woollen hugs

Green moss clad bark glistens

on dark cool branches

beneath the weight of a 

myriad of colours

oranges, russets, 

umbers, merigold

reds and pinks 

decorate the canopy

Rosy cheeks atop newly knitted scarves

sniffling through visible breaths

from chilled lungs nestled in their layers

bonfires and woodburners fill the air

with rich smokes and a poky tang

crows caw through crisp mornings,

lending their raspy soundtrack

to crunching footsteps and panting dogs

Pumpkins grin maniacally from doorsteps,

candles giving life to cartoon evil eyes

as excited little monsters and ghosts hunt

sweets or deliver empty threats of tricks or treats

williwaws and thunderstorms 

sheeted rain and dark velvety early nights

swaddle the earth earlier and earlier

prompting the cyclic utterance of

ooh, aren’t the nights drawing in

And now, as winter creeps toward us

ready to envelop us all in its icy grip

we hide beneath toasty blankets 

getting fat

idling away the lamplit cozy hours

smiling as we adventure

through worlds of words 

in musty books

The enemy of summer

close cousin of winter

holding open the door 

for nature’s death

before reincarnation stirs 

dull roots with spring rain 

once again

laying slain the wasted land.

Written in a prison library at our creative writing workshop. We all had to describe Autumn without actually naming it. This is my offering. Yes, there's a nod to TS Eliot.