Poetry: Autumn

The ground
is beneath me

And above me
is the sky

Surrounding in fashion are the leaves swirling in style

They say "fall"
But that's not true
It's a rising
It's a coming of times,
Not an end

The air is brisk
The body is hot
How can these contradictions remain true?
Heh heh, I can tell you

(But I won't)

Welcome the smells,
Engulf the senses in the season
In the celebration
Of snow.