Autumn clings doggedly to the ground
And lays in random piles
It lingers on near-naked branches
The wind whispers of harvest
Of falling leaves
Of pumpkins on doorsteps
Only the Christmas lights tell a different story
Squirrels still bury their walnuts
Scampering about snowless gardens
Tenaciously searching for more...
Victimless
But the flowers...
They stir, unaware
A few rising to greet the new spring
Only to stand in awe at the sight of Christmas
And welcome the new year...
With snowflakes to kiss their puzzled faces.