Ode to Autumn
The gentle, damp wind of Carpo permeates my face
Kisses my parched lips
And blows through my hair
Tangled and fluttering
The four o'clock sun, at its peak
Yellows the dry, brownish leaves on the eucalyptus trees
And embraces me
Like a home, a mother nursing my prose
I lie in the bosom of the earth,
With the misty skies watching me
Celebrating the petrichor
That takes over my sense of smell, brings me a blush
May your grace be eternal
And may the hummingbirds fly free
In the yellowish sky
Of this Mabon afternoon