Fall

The sun creeps through crisp air

cradles me gently

and wraps me tighter in my blankets

only speaking a language of content sighs.

A leaf falls, orange and yellow

as hot cocoa is siped

snuggled in by the fire

as the smell of fall wafts

over us all.

The sweet stickiness of sap

soon to be syrup.

The smell of wet leaves

and burning wood.

The wind rustles, the leaves

causing them and I to shiver

a contented sigh

of nothing needing done.