After Summer Poem by Rue Palmer

The trees whisper tales of the summer's end,
As autumn's breath begins to bend
The branches bare, the leaves set free,
To dance with the wind in wild revelry.

The skies grow restless, clouds on the run,
Chased by the chill of the fading sun.
It's as if the earth sighs, a long-held breath,
In the wake of summer's gentle death.

The winds are voices of seasons untold,
Sweeping through forests in stories of old.
A song of change, a brisk refrain,
Of life's ebbing cycle, of joy and pain.

Fall is so windy, because it must stir
The quiet earth for what will occur.
A prelude to winter, a wild, fierce call—
It's nature's exhale, in the heart of fall.