I have heard praises of all this autumnbling
Yes, it is a feast of color, true.
Yet, it seems this forest floor
Littered with the wings
Of carrion crows
Feasting upon the death
Of summer and spring,
Of all things gold and green.
I have always detested autumn
And everything it brings.
Longer nights, cold and wind,
The death of all the things green—
Yes, I know unless it be blessed
To be evergreen—
But all things human must seek shelter
Against the coming winter’s cold pain—
Imprisonment by cold
Is what the colors of autumn
Have always foretold—
No gems, no bling, do they hold.
I would rather swelter in the freedom
Granted by summer’s gift of gold.
Annette Kalandros, a retired teacher, residing in Houston, TX with two French Bulldogs, writes to make sense of things—life, the world, the inner workings of her own mind and soul. In addition, she had been active in the LGBTQ community since was four years old and marched her Ken doll with all his little Ken accouterments to the big metal trash can in the yard. Her two Barbie dolls lived happily ever after. Her work has been included in the anthology, As The World Burns.
You can read more of her write at Hearing The Mermaids Sing