All the rustic brown,
and green leaves
on every road
begin to lasso October
for his last threads of autumn.
Black clouds flush
and fangs soar
the chilly midnight air,
the last breath
the scarecrows will exhale.
The trademark-V possesses the moon,
and paves south
to hide from frozen return.
Pumpkins wrinkle tea-light for children,
while bon-fires crawl back inside chimneys,
as the sky unravels behind de-tasseled corn.
The depressed sun sleeps longer than usual
during her blanketed hibernation,
and the grass will awaken
the moment mother nature
bares herself to the world
By Jai K
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