PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

i still dream of autumn's birth, indian summer

for always, forever, the never ending autumn

where leaflets fall fluidly like rain surreptitiously

though displayed plainly for every elder to see

jacket weather, scented candles wafting by me

orange fronds, magenta leaves crumbling upon

piles of child's play strewn about ill kept lawns

were that it never ended, nor winter ever began

before the spring unfolded, after the now when

all are gathered, circled around memorial feasts...