Good bye summer

    Now Autumn winds are
    where golden leaves encrust
    the muted, withered flowers
    in colored fields of rust.

    And willows, near the lowlands,
    are dry and brittle too;
    September day have stolen
    a bit of summer’s blue.

    The first clouds of October
    have came to block the sun;
    they are the first of many,
    for fall has now begun.

    Why should I think of winter
    on a day, such as this?
    I’ll take what it now offers
    and blow the sky a kiss.