An Autumn Poem

Autumn has come
and fires have been lit.
The forests ablaze;
trees engulfed in flames.

There is the sparkle of evening red,
the shimmer of yellow gold,
and a whisper of green
— soon lost —
to the howling winds.

Then there is the ashes’ brown,
covering crooked spikes
reaching for silver skies;

the brown
that soon will be

shed.