The wind softly whispers
a secret song in my ear.
The orange and red leaves,
signifying the trees beginning their slumber.
A slumber in which they do not wake up
until the first spring flower blooms.
But until then, we might as well enjoy
the calm, mellow rain.
The season of ripeness
and bright red apples.
Because Autumn whispers a secret song,
only few can hear.
The Swerve 
So you have a poetic side I didn’t know about…
Good job, I love it!
LikeLike