Photograph taken by Theresa F Koch

Lined up black birds sit silently in a row swaying on the winds wires. Waiting patiently for the black raven in delicate blue silk slippers. Wiley wind blows colder this time of year as the pumpkin smiles. Dance nymphs of the autumn, as the harvest approach’s your wrath.

Darkness arrives for the season to shuffle and use in the landscapes. Whom do you hear as the branches tap tunes against glass in code? Dusk laughs often as this is his time of the year to touch many souls. Frightened children beg one for candy dodging egg bombs from above.

Solemn sweater clad women run out to the concrete plaza for a deal. Stuffed dead turkeys smell up the air preparing for a feast of the fall. Husbands and wives fight freely over money spending illogically. This is the last celebration before the ladies in white reclaim their land.