A hint of autumn
taste of falling leaves,
unsung tears
nature’s fashion show of the year
has just begun.
A tint of yellow
on the trees: dawn is crisp
and dusk comes swiftly
like a clearing on the throat
of early August.
The feathers ruffle on the geese
baby swallow’s swoop
across the wires
dreaming of open African skies
deserts we won’t ever see.
A hint of melancholy
comes to me remembering
the beginning of the year
all we were to do before time
like the swallows
stole away the light.
Victoria Mosley 
A terrific piece, Victoria; fresh and
interesting. I love the lines:
/dreaming of open African skies/
deserts we won’t ever see/.
It is wistful, yet not weepy, tinged
with regrets like those leaves on
Montana trees right now.
Ah its the time of year , it smells of winter …….xx
“deserts we won’t ever see” LIKE