Feeling of Fall

The air changes from stale to crisp,
the wind sweeps in coldness,
it crawls into my bones with determination.

I sense the change days before it happens;
leaves drink in the color like ocean sponges.
Along comes the frigid cold to strip them bare.

Forests left unclothed,
naked for all to see.
Wooden skeletons model their new frames.

Full moons mark the season until spring can return.
Nourishment needed is now replaced,
And gives all life a brand new face.



About the Poet:
Cindy O’Quinn is a writer, RN, and homesteader. She lives in the North Woods of New England with her husband and sons. Cindy’s short stories and poetry can be found in Sanitarium Magazine issue #48, as well as upcoming issues of Blood Moon Rising Magazine.


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