My Favorite, My Best

It whispered in on coattails of unsuspecting ninety nine.
A week of eighty eights, each dropping one by one.
No single chance for seventy, skipping lithely by.
A single breeze, a lick of chill.
A silent bloom of sudden clouds.
For all its balmy predecessors,

it secreted the call,
"I'm here,
It's Fall."

(Poem by me. If borrowed, please cite.)

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Unknown said...

Beautiful poem and awesome photo of your little guy. I love the earings on Crystal B's blog. Wish me luck. Great Blog:)!

dandee said...

hooray for fall!