I’m thinking lovely thoughts of fall,
Complete with color red on leaves
Still hung on young new maple trees.
As willows gauntly weep with wind,
They wait while geese pick summer seed,
their bellies full from dormant grass.
Alive in crisp brisk autumn air
, They’re out there where once picnics were,
To get them set for flying south.
Oh, such sweet season’s rich tableau,
This smart sight, silently is sought,
For view by poet’s passive eye.
This pastoral fall scene spoke to me of the leaves changing and geese getting ready to fly south.