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A beautiful fall day.
A pebbled path through the red.
Charcoal steps leading up.
Fantasies flow through my head.
The leaves lift off
Until the day turns dark.
I’m trapped inside
A red swirl in the park.
The rain trickles.
The wind cackles.
I flee for safety
On raised hackles.
The path is gone.
Night has come too soon.
The path is gone.
Lost in the full moon.
But your poem goes further and seems to turn a beautiful day into one of those sudden fronts that brings wind and rain. And then, followed by clearing into a beautiful fall moon lit night.
Superbly written in few words.
Ron
with joy to bring,
but why a poem about fall,
when it is now spring?
Just kidding, I enjoyed your poem.