Sky, blue as the clearest ocean.
Air, cool and crisp,
Yet refreshing.

Faint scent of pine lingers in the air.

A puff of breath,
A miniscule cloud, that quickly fades away.

Once prosperous and vibrant plains,
now dormant in shades of tan.

A quick breeze, with a stifling edge,
passes through the land.
Branches rustle and leaves crinkle.

A sudden still overcomes the scene.

Reds, yellows, glowing mixes of orange.
The crisp leaves crunching and twirling in the cool breeze.

The smell of fire wisps up my nose, entangled in the wind.
I envision a family huddled around,
Enjoying the fiery heat as splintery logs crackle about.

A marshmallow toasting above the glowing pit,
Steaming as it slowly turns from pale white to a deep caramel.

Pumpkins rest upon porch steps,
Ready for the Hallows Eve.

The leaves glow in the fading sunlight.
Deep, rich golds and reds,
As the burning sun sinks below the horizon.