Autumn festival (a poem)

I hate nature poems—so of course I end up writing one (or something resembling one)…

A commotion arises in the treetops
waving and whispering up and down the banks

The anticipation is palpable
its energy practically crackles in the air
Even the jets passing overhead cannot drown it out

The festival will soon begin
squirrels scurry about the grounds
preparing for its commencement

A scattering of leaves litters the lawns
those early arrivals
too anxious to wait any longer

In a matter of weeks
the ground will be hidden
beneath a crunchy, crackly quilt
of gold, brown, and bronze

leaving the now naked trees
to revel in the arrival of autumn

(20 September 2015)