Brisk air boldly brushes cheekbones,
layers of flannels, wool, and cotton cloak
mysterious forms gripping collars and griping
about the pre-seasonal dusting of snow.
A squirrel huddles in the corner
of oak’s tree-fork of branches
savoring the snack between his paws
of a selected acorn from his stash.
The chorus of crisp leaves rises
signaling a launch;
they scurry away,
scraping along the sidewalk
before taking off.
Cinnamon beckons to to be sprinkled,
apples get cut to their cores,
whipped cream slowly slinks down
the sides of pie slices,
pumpkins garnish front porches.
Rolls get passed around the table,
refs signal downs on yard lines,
the cornucopia of memories
accumulated in autumn
stay ripe in the heart and mind.