Autumn Sonnet

When the chill of fall and wind doth blow,
and withered leaves in secret hollows mulch;
the first dark clouds, laced with sticky snow,
drip on hare and fowl in yonder gulch.
		And now I, in pensive mood unchecked,
		do ponder long the ever-changing scene.
		Of this change the summer foliage wrecked
		from brights to a much more somber sheen.
How wondrous is this change to see -
so bold, so abrupt, altering from sun to ice.
Breathless and stimulating it is to me.
Although I must adapt, the change is nice.
		Reflecting on nature, my mind does strive.
		It's wondrous and great just to be alive!