A hustling breeze rips each tree's gown
Amid the raindrops insects crawl
And the sad result is terrace sprawl.
Swept up and tidied – who would know?
One day on – the same old show!
That's Autumn's challenge every year
Chaos in this misty sphere.
We rug up well, as Aussies say,
The chill now with us every day
Although, and here I must be fair,
The burnished sun still warms the air.
Coral, orange, mustard, brown
All fashion tones on sale in town
I flick through racks of fast-made clothes
Pumpkin and carrot shades in droves!
In crowded metros I observe
That boots and sturdy shoes now serve
The Brussels early morn commute
Perhaps I too should follow suit!
(c) Poet in the woods 2018
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