A simple poem for afterward
Sluggish crickets chirping in the meadow,
slowing cadence in the dark.
Crunching footsteps in the woodland,
doe or buck in crunchy leaves.
Soft rustling through front-yard asters,
stealthy foraging while others sleep.
Great horned owls' courtship concert
drifting across the frosted field.
Breezes sighing in bare branches,
whispers of the coming chill.
The season's evensong.
November lullaby.
