October
Warm autumn winds brush my cheek,
though the sky is threatening rain.
Trees sway their tips, like giants
rubbing shoulders, speaking another language,
the forest is cast in gold,
fading green filigree, inlaid with scarlet.
Each season brings its chores,
and there is much work to be done before the end of the year,
since the ground is littered
with their withering crowns, falling all over me.