I am reprising this poem from last year in praise of the colors and coming of fall.
The kinglets have come
ruby-throats are gone
and today I heard the sapsucker's
whine.
Gold plated pawpaws
crimson painted sassafras
frost asters blanket the fields
in lace.
Red-tails circle above,
white-throats rustle through the garden,
and days like black walnut leaves,
float one-by-one
away.
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