Autumn Chill


There's a chill in the air that can't be denied,
run shivers on skin that clothes do not hide.

Gone are the days of bare skinned pride,
the chill is a signal of winter's bide.

Damp dark on the sky of a summer grayed,
with dismal thoughts, autumn's color fade.

Trees starkly stripped of their colorful garb,
stand sentinel in the moonlight's pale orb.

Foreboding thoughts cross the mind,
Will death's scythe be coming close behind?

Light a warm fire to drive out the chill.
Put your feet up with a hot toddy to fill.

Kiss your grand child's rosy cold cheek,
chase those dark thoughts away so bleak.

Hot sun will be back out again next week,
surviving the holidays is not for the weak.


Naked Trees (c) Debby Ray

Naked Trees © Debby Ray

A reminder that feeling that chill that comes on
this time of the year could not be considered a
time to curl up and die, but a time to reflect
on a life well done and look forward to joyous
holidays celebrating the seasons to come.

eMail Me

More Poems

My Place

Copyright 2017 © Ronald W. Hull

10/29/17

It's in the Water and Other Stories

It's in the Water and Other Stories

American Mole:  The Vespers

American Mole: The Vespers of

Verge of Apocalypse Tales

Verge of Apocalypse Tales