Autumn has come like a thief in the night

 and stolen it all from me.

 Today, I see the first faded brown possiblility fall to the earth

soon to be dry and crunching beneath my feet

as I walk among the leaves wondering—why? how?

It almost seemed like a dream

too sudden and too good and too gone

to be real.

How long will this season last?

Will the death and absence of all in the white

of winter come and go just as quickly,

so I can find the green in spring once again?

Or will the queen pick up the dead leaves of her splendor

and make herself a bed of dust to dwell in the

long, cold winter?

Oh come Spring! I want to dance again!