Autumn

It is only in Autumn that the world is on fire
A blanket of golden flames,
Wrapping the streets in their warmth,
Whispering goodnight before the cold darkness that lies waiting.

It is only in Autumn that the blackbirds sing,
Perched on the bare limbs of the trees
Whose once green coverings are turned gold and lost,
The music only a temporary calm before the freezing storm of Winter.

It is only in Autumn that life begins to rest,
The world surrounds itself in comfort,
Closes down and prepares for the slumber
Brought on by the coming months.

Only in Autumn.