The Change
- M. Walsh


Leaves of green
Now red and gold
I face the north
And feel the cold

Time to turn the fields
And stock the wood
I prepare for winter
And get the fire going good

Those easy days of summer
Full of sunshine and rest
Have come to a close
and there only be short days at best

That crispness in the air
That bright morning sun
Nature starts to stir
With all the work to be done

But this is my time
My favorite season at hand
When the mountains seem on fire
And Mother Nature spills color across the land


September 2, 2004

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© September 2, 2004 M. Walsh