Autumn Walks

The wind is wild, leaves blowing into drifting piles.
Swept along by the chilly, air.


I love to walk through the leaves, my feet shuffling them about.
Summer has left us behind, and winter has not yet arrived.

The blazing tree leaves glow red, yellow and orange.
They are blown from trees to street to pile against the curbs.

Bundled in thick coat and sweater, I stroll red faced
from the cold through it all with joy.

People stop and huddle as they talk,
collars turned up against the chilly wind.

It cuts through clothing at times, finding spots between buttons.
Lifts our scarves and up pantlegs or dresses.

I love this time of year.
A promise of winter yet to come.

A statement that summer has gone past.
It's fall, and it's exhillerating while it's here.


Sharon Pribble