Still feeling the seasons

I'm starting to feel 

An autumn chill

A crispness still

As a newborn sky

It does not disturb

But rather please these marveled eyes   

That look for Beauty

No yonder

Than nature’s canvas

Outside my windowsill

That I adorned with mournful flowers

Glasses of wine and coffee pots

To brew the perfect dose

For mornings like these

Of forty degrees

And autumn breeze

The waft of air

With its lilac breath

Tickles the leaves

That giggle hysterical

Like hyenas

And smile

In some hybrid fashion

Of innocence and flair

When I step outside

I kick the soot

Of summer residue

With my stern black boot

And I split the root

Of a defying Daisy
In two

But inside

It is an evening of tea

Warm chamomile spices

For warmth entices the mind

Into all kinds of adventures

Beneath the sheets

Between lover and lover

Although tonight

Is just for me

And the tapping

Of this rusty heater

And the gust of wind

That has left its icy reminder

Outside my windowpane

With the splendor of autumn days

I hardly feel pain 

  

Morning Sun by Edward Hopper