Nothing creeps in like the fall out of summer—
When autumn arrives with a crisp breeze that condones
the football season and woolen sweaters,
the glow of a tavern and the richness
of a darker beer, as leaves
redden and the air chills.

nothing like the fall of leaves,
shedding clothing after a grand finale—
the prospects of
migration and hibernation—

squandering squirrels are fattening,
birds soaring the blue cloudy sky,
yard flowers wilting and dying.

but school children scurry to the bus
in the frosty, foggy early morning,

nothing creeps out like the fall,
the descent to winter.

by Ryan Wilcox