A Changing Scene

I see the garden phlox grow pale
And sudden browning of the dale,
Trees changing into autumn gowns,
Rich harvest bins about the towns.

I see chrysanthemums so bright,
Like painter's palette, a delight,
And smell the hint of burning eaves,
Note hay in bales and wheat in sheaves.

I hear the robin's farewell trill
And feel the early evening chill,
Watch the last of fireflies
And catch cicadas' nightfall cries.

I know the special joy apart,
When autumn's scene does warm my heart,
For beauty that's beyond compare
In vibrant colors everywhere.

~ Virginia Borman Grimmer