Autumn is arriving,
Dissecting summer
By slices of wind
Tearing foliage,
Tossing it around.
Carrying off the last
Splash of floral color,
Coating the sky in gray.
Quaking trees
Can, and will,
Hide that lost kite,
As long as possible.
Summer's refugee,
Safe, momentarily,
Then tossed up,
Up, the last strands
Of summer
Fleeing on its' tail.
