Autumn

My poem for the Season's contest. AABB iambic pentameter

August means fire as autumn burns away
October turns nippy but that's okay!
Crickets chirp a chorus of loud sharp notes
Then soon we'll break out light jackets and coats.

Screeching cicadas permeate the ears
Reminds me of my past seventeen years.
The last flight of lightning bugs and fireflies
Waning leaves dimming now withers and dies.

Sights of rustling leaves cartwheel down the street
Forming larger piles to plow with my feet!
Emerald, lime, and hunter greens turn gold
Bronze and light brown grass fade dormant and old.

Damp smells blending churn pollen with showers
Allergies blossom as though spring flowers.
Oaks and maples foliage promptly stall
Auburn, umber, and titian leaves now fall.