Heralded by the sandhill’s cry
High on the wind
That now nips with a stronger bite
After autumn’s stately gowns have been shed
The trees stand bare
Ready to be born again in a different beauty
That first breath upon the air
Held in so long for summer
Now exhaled
Appearing as a dusting of celestial white
Robing all in silver threads
Tucking away to sleep
The grass and flowers
Now crunching under foot
Fleeting be this moment
For the sun
With some warmth still in her cooling rays
Lights upon the glitter
Melting winter’s first frost
Into drops of watery jewels
About the Creator
Rae Fairchild (MRB)
I love to write; putting pen to paper fills my heart and calms my soul!
Rae Fairchild is my pen name. (Because why not? Pseudonyms are cool!)
I do publish elsewhere under my real name, M.R.B.
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