Autumn

The tree blushed - a rude blast of air 
Betrayed a shapely bough. 
My saddened heart aware 
That Nature's clock was chiming, 
I froze upon the twelfth 
Clanging tone, caught alone, 
Staring at a creaking door - 
Left ajar for dancing, coloured Autumn, 
Pirouetting in her leaves, 
While agitated summer creatures 
Backed away resignedly, 
Sighing in protracted breves. 
I turned; gave company; 
We stood together, watching 
Summer slowly blow away. 

Mark R Slaughter