Fall moves in like a settling. Everything sinks and shifts and sighs.
My mug into my hands,
I into my chair,
The leaves onto the earth,
The darkness into the evening,
The clouds onto the mountain.

She is surrounded by that fluffy sheet in the morning,
As I snuggle beneath the down,
I emerge porcelain,
Graced with goosebumps from the open window
That chase away any sign of the Summer’s seasoning on my skin
She emerges clothed in snow
I believe she is more beautiful now
And so there is pride in the season’s pale
For it is not a fading;
Trees light up like torches in orange,
And my eyes ignite with laughter and reflected burning logs.

The thickness of socks and the sleeves of my sweater,
The whole home warmed by the oven’s treats,
The crispness of mornings and sweet spice of cider.

There’s wonder to the earth awakening in Spring,
But the twilight and drowsiness world before winter
Is comfort like a lovers with heads laid on pillows
Before they slowly drift to sleep.