Different Seasons

One hand in Autumn, the other outstretched into Winter,

Searching for what lies beneath the season coming,

The last windburned leaf sways to and fro

in its gentle decent,

Crashing into its fallen brothers upon the floor below,

An array of crimson and fire dissolves softly into Her tone,

Echoes of fleeting wings lead the insectual orchestration,

A solemn, feathered voice reveals nature's melodious passion,

As shadows twist around their captors,

Pulsing to the rotation of Her fingers about Her expression,

Stray beams slip through the barren branches,

Illuminating the scene- void of living, yet full of life,

Pale yellow skies retreat into the evening's violet folds,

Enticing the downward drift into fantasy.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Another nature poem (obviously). "Her" refers to mother nature or nature in general...however you want to look at it.

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