Caramel drizzled apples, wood stacked.
Leaves spiral down, crimson tipped,
heralding "Soon, soon"...
I fickly proclaim Autumn "my favorite",
weary of heat-drenched days.
Beneath kitchen window
fawn's still speckled, buck's alters fuzzy.
Just a pane of glass divides
sweet green grass and pumpkin-spice pie.
by Margaret Bednar, revised September 25, 2017
This is for "dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #41" a poem in 44 words & this week use the word "spice". I revised an old poem, edited it and added the word spice. I like it better this way. The deer were under my kitchen window and I was making apple pie - but I have exercised artistic license :)