an Autumn Blues

When grasses slow then cease to grow
their green blades wither to rust
and the slanted sky brings a sad goodbye
to warmer days, and now a leafy crust
finds the sole of my shoe
and an empty wish for something lost

So soon, the warmth gone, and cool days
and bundled-up ways come crowding through.

The birds see it too, and gold finches flash
to gather hard seeds, as summer's missions
find completion; in the glad recreation
of spring yet to be, is a recipe for perfection.

The ground firms in coolness, silently
fat, red worms relent and go deep.
They seem like the baring trees, ready
for wintry haze and sullen sleep.

I feel the urge to south, grow wings, fly
rise on lifting winds, as scented air comes forth
in lotus and nightly lilac- such unwanted pause
this frigid pall; the descending crawl from north

comes whether I wish it to be.
 I wonder as eyes scan the rainbow canopy
if the stoic evergreens can sense  my envy