Powdered Kaolin

Autumn’s closing in now,
leaves have dressed the ground.
Laying in heaped profusion,
so still, making no sound.

Reds and rusts are mingling,
beneath each skeletal tree.
Tumbling when the breezes blow,
off on their reckless spree.

Misty are the mornings,
bad weather’s moving in.
Frost will appear on branches,
like powdered kaolin.

October, then November,
Summer is no longer here,
Chilly days are approaching,
the last leaves disappear.

Autumn’s closing in now,
with blustery winds so cold.
But, whatever Winter brings,
Spring will again unfold.

poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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