A cool Fall breeze sways the stoic oak
Its drying, dying leaves choke
Out a murmured song, strong limbs tire
Acorns drop, a spray of friendly fire
Rains down, squirrels dance with danger
For a taste of meaty flesh, stranger
Risks rarely taken, though I could be mistaken

For the world is changing, this magical place
Between a sweaty summer and a frozen face
Taste the transition, hear the crunch beneath your feet
Bask in the darkness where dawn and dusk meet
It grows and thickens, but even that can be sweet
Be the wheat, singing with the wind even as it dies
Or listen for the farmer's relieved, contented sighs
There is work to be done out in the field
But pause, give thanks for this bumper yield
So see the green crops turn to gold
And enjoy this calm before the cold