Southern Seasons

By Sarah Hall

Brown leaves falling,

In the crisp evening air.

Wispy winds are whipping,

The harvest picked with care.

Long sleeve sweaters,

Pulled up past the neck.

Warm fuzzy socks,

Thermostats are checked.

We lay down to bed,

Looking towards fall.

Everything seemed to be changing,

Decorations fill our walls.

Then overnight,

Fall runs away.

The summer heat is back,

And is here to stay.

Off come the sweaters,

On come the shorts.

Off go the blankets,

Back to cool drinks and sports.

The false fall is over,

One more southern season down.

We can't wait for real fall,

To show off its golden crown.