‘Night whispers’

Some folks call it ‘Autumn’,
but I still describe it as ‘Fall’.
The mercury drops at night;
anticipation of winter’s call

The season signals change.
Deciduous plants take note. 
Limbs drop wrinkled leaves,
cascading away, sans hope.

Night whispers tease the air;
climate ultimatum it delivers.
What once was raging water,
soon becomes a frozen river.

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About Bo Bandy

Just a creative soul trapped in a world of cookie-cutter pragmatism...
This entry was posted in Different Perspectives, Fiction Stories, Poetry, Uncategorized, Whimsical. Bookmark the permalink.

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