Roasted Wood

A poem about why fall is my favorite season.

A late afternoon, after a walk through the hills,
you have my sweater on.

An orange autumn evening with raspberry tea,
out on the patio with only one blanket.

A quiet show of trees, sprinkling red and yellow onto wet grass.

When I feel that wind blow, I smell roasting wood and perfume.

The curve of your face with rose shadows, on October sunsets of red clouds and a moon.

Just one walk, just one more. A chance for a kiss on a chilly fall night.

Hot apple pie, with one scoop of ice cream, a glass of wine and some jazz.

A long talk with warm smiles and soft, tender lips, a giggle from you makes my heart pause for thought.

Autumn, I've missed you, you old fox! You cunning pixie of time!

Year after year, I fall in love over, and over again.