If I had one last day to live,
I would spend it in Autumn's arms.
She would wrap me in her serene blanket,
Made of the benign colors of her charm.
I would lose myself in her firm scent,
Of leaves so damp and of the coming cold.
Her eyes of gray, of orange and of red,
Would move me and cause me to un-fold.
The trees would rustle and sway,
As birds flee from her soft song.
My heart would settle and be at rest,
As she and I would walk along.
I would spend it in Autumn's arms.
She would wrap me in her serene blanket,
Made of the benign colors of her charm.
I would lose myself in her firm scent,
Of leaves so damp and of the coming cold.
Her eyes of gray, of orange and of red,
Would move me and cause me to un-fold.
The trees would rustle and sway,
As birds flee from her soft song.
My heart would settle and be at rest,
As she and I would walk along.
- Layne Hilyer