The Indian summer we enjoyed
This golden autumn, is now void
The rains have wiped the dusty leaves
Summer sparkle dies and grieves.
There's a waspish chill now in the air
The winds the spider's web now tear
The rustling leaves lie in damp piles
On every side - grey skies for miles.
Puddles form in pot-holed road
Rain-filled clouds in overload
With regret I wear a scarf again
Nip in the air - a daily pain!
The back end of the year draws near
Long damp evenings without cheer
But street lights lead us safely home
And with internet, we're not alone!
(c) Poet in the woods 2014