Fall is elusive,
secretive, shy;
Fall is a crispness
that comes from the sky;
Fall brings chrysanthemums,
and sand that's cold;
Fall gives the trees
great halos of gold.
Rustling and bustling,
each little fall sound
Stirs up pumpkins
which squat on the ground,
Scoops up summer,
pauses to tease;
Fall is the mist
which creeps through the trees.
