I stand beside the sunlit edge
of pond and meadow touching hands,
watch flirting leaves that twitch and swirl
then bob and curtsey in their dance.
Soft waters rippling into shore,
beneath bowed willows’ trailing arms,
push tender shards of russet brown
to catch and curl between the reeds.
Though reds and gold light up the trees,
no harsh wind sings of winter’s chill,
but autumn whispers in the breeze
and summer hums a sad farewell.