In windswept breeze, leaves tumble down -
Vermillion, rust and chestnut brown.
Parading banners twist and fly
Into the shimmering, sun-swirled sky.
Clusters of chestnuts carpet the ground,
Crispy-red apples in orchards abound,
Silken corn shocks point up high
And at our feet, gold pumpkins lie.
Wild geese call from a twilight sky,
Their wings in rhythm gliding by,
A luminous glow in splendor greets
In days when Autumn and Summer meet.
Elisabeth Weaver Winstead

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