Autumn

On April 11, 2024 By SerrocIn poetry

Like a dragon,
I raked the gold
and ruby
sheafs
in a great
and fragrant
pile, and
felt for that moment,
this was my
hoard.

Crisp air
mingled with
distant wood
smoke
and the
sweet
smell
of wet
Autumn leaves
are still my
treasure.

I keep it
locked in
my heart,
in my memory,
in my soul -
the soaring
feeling I had
back then,
when trees
shook off
their summer coats
and the air
was filled
with the promise
of harvest,
ripening - 
and everything
was still
possible.