The unmistakable chill in the air,  

With rays of sun shining dimmer. 

I knew it was getting colder, 

But it surely wasn’t winter. 

The leaves no longer green, 

The sun goes to sleep early. 

The crisp, cool wind rushes through my hair, 

Which is brown, and fairly curly. 

Even the scent of the air is familiar, 

As it carries me down backroads upstate. 

The first bite into a freshly picked apple, 

It’s the small things that make it so great. 

In life, seasons come and go, 

Yet we try to linger and stall. 

But change can be so natural and reviving, 

As it comes around every fall.