A sonnet celebrating the Season of Fall.
Season of Fall
By Byron Gordon
Cool, soothing breezes brush aside summer’s heat
Leaving the air brisk, tasting of winter
And leaves turn raucous, while apples turn sweet
For a short time, before they turn bitter.
Faintly incense blooms in the coming glooms
With scents of walnut, locust, and cherry
And pine, rivaling Parisian perfumes
It’s crisp, clean scent pleasing to the merry.
Spooks and haunts lurk in shifting shadows
Kept at bay by Jack, our dim pumpkin guide.
While their howling grows the more the wind blows
We will remain safe with Jack at our side.
He’ll see us safely home, yes, one and all
In this best season, from walking in fall.