
it was the season of soft sienna
and stewing oatmeal,
of cool nights and mist filled mornings
with crows calling for the day to open once again

it was the season of soft sienna
and stewing oatmeal,
of cool nights and mist filled mornings
with crows calling for the day to open once again

the rich, bursting, ripe colors of late summer flood the senses and gladden the heart