Grey skies are lingering and we have a chillier air
Summer's finally leaving though we're hardly aware
Temperatures are dropping but slow to take their leave
Finally the season's changing and we can freely breathe
There is something solemn in the approach of this new day
Skies are hardly speaking and the wind is on its way
Hardly any movement while the stillness of this time
Creates an awesome backdrop for an truly Autumn rhyme..
Like a funeral procession, the creatures are all mum
They go about their business without frolicking or any fun
Gathering up their morsels they make a huge supply
Of wintry stash they can go to when all is cold as ice
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