The goldenrods sway, in the late season breeze
In a sea of yellow, they move with such ease
The back of the field, where the tall trees stand
Now barren of green, as if touched by a hand
The splendor of autumn, swept in like a dream
Falls colors now shine, over the land and leaves
This will change quickly, when the next cold wind blows
And this beauty is replaced, by a new season of snow
kpm