Abi Fall Comes a Knocking at My Door

Fall Comes a Knockin at My Door

[‘Tis the Season of Autumn.]

Alisa Dolia

Canadian geese fly overhead As you trudge through a muddy field, Eager to get home.

You curl up near the fireplace with your dog, Hot chocolate in hand To watch your favorite movie. While rain knocks on your windows.

The next day, A walk through Portland awaits. Cloudy skies, a chilly breeze. Wearing your favorite rain jacket With the hood pulled over your head. ‘Tis the season of autumn.

Fiery leaves In their bright, analogous coloring. A bright pumpkin orange An earthy brown A red, Like the sun during a fire. Leaves color the ground. A pattern Finer than your grandma’s favorite rug. They all gradually float on the breeze Leaving trees bare. They crunch underfoot, And skitter past, carried by the wind.