She's come, that harbinger of change,
With her teasing alternation,
Of frosty mornings and sunlit afternoons.

Shrivelled leaves crackle underfoot,
And candelabra branches point heavenward,
In their naked supplication.

Dry vines climb brick walls,
Like skeletal fingers, reaching and grasping,
For sun's fading warmth.

Evergreens taunt in proud majesty:
Who can match our strength?
We are the presiders over nature's changes!

And so they sway.

But all around creation trembles,
It burrows in and battens down,
preparing for its Babylon.