
Here in my backyard
—
the leaves drift and bliss from the trees
landing softly between my knees
a sense of glee rushes my way,
with the scent of autumn passing by me
—
I wear my hoodie for comfort,
giving me a real sense of safety
but once it feels like a tort,
I toss it for the autumn warmth
—
fall often gives people a common chill
though it isn’t perfect for those who shrill
in my full honesty,
they could really use my hoodie
—
the scent of cinnamon spice penetrates the air,
waking local raccoons who seek to locate this affair
autumn is a time for prosperous preparation,
baking and carving plumpy pumpkins give an honest sense of relaxation
—
raking lightened leaves and settling them into piles
influences children to jump and scream from miles and miles,
and those crisp sounds are just as satisfying to my ear
but the overbearing scents of Yankey candles
leave my eyes puffed with overflowing tears
—
my love for autumn only comes once a year,
the nostalgic feeling helps to lose all sense of life’s fears
and it isn’t just about that comforting feeling,
but rather that sense of soothing safety
—
from our hoodies to those wondrous smells,
to those pumpkins they sure do tell,
and the leaves and glorious goodies,
that feeling of autumn can be felt from anywhere,
—
even here in my backyard.
Categories: Arts & Culture, Poetry, Uncategorized
Evocative and beautiful.
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