At 1:30 P.M. on an Autumn Afternoon...

Crisp smoke-scented air
Swirls in the autmn breeze
Perfuming the fleeting daylight.

The soft wind lifts
Fallen leaves from their piles
And they dance across the avenue
A spontaneous chorus of color
And metaphor
Reminding me that the
True beauty of this season is
More than its coolness
More than its color, and
Less about the falling leaves.

Mostly, itís about filling my
Senses to overflowing
Causing me to take pause and
Drink in summerís wine.

(C) Susan Mason  November 10, 1997
On a leaf-blown street in Teaneck, NJ

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