Autumn's Artist Poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt

I am autumn's artist. On multi-coloured wings I sweep
across the brilliant blue of late September skies,

touching the tops of tallest trees with glorious tinges
of varied vivid hues. I chase the humid heat and curdled clouds

of summer and bring the brisk and bracing breeze,
as welcome as the early warmth of April afternoons.

I let my palette drip its crimson drops on mighty maples
and splash the sycamore with scarlet, even while

I sprinkle verdant poplars with a sunny golden spray.
I turn the birches bronze and tint the towering tamaracks

with gleaming copper. And then I cause that foliage fair to fall
and cloak the earth with showy vibrant shades.

And as I bring the freezing frosts I take my leave,
departing for another year, the branches barren now.