The lawn is filled with rain
Views once soft begin to harden
Wilting stems are nature's crane.
Ragged petals now make trails
On the crunchy gravel floor
A colder wind prevails
Squirrels garner winter's store.
Bright Michaelmas's daisy
Quiet herald of the change;
Subtle russet hues are hazy
The artist has wide range.
Wreaths of silver morning mist
Are pierced by a wan sun
Conkers as big as my fist
Remind us summer's done.
(c) Poet in the Woods 2014
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGvB_VHPB4ea3E4ntzotmkRdlp6gBEJ7PzpRC53Rm4U7MHhg4HpXWB0h4Cwi-JuJjVvHPSKe4HaLuTfF_psybgkbRXer6E1ZN-COqQ2HxpXxGMJiEHhls8SLTlFygoSrIWWTMfRM8RQRVc/s320/conkers.jpg)
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