Poem: The Autumn Blend

Although where I came from,

I do not see,

What I hear, I cannot feel.

Because of the Autumn Blend.

As one walks through the crackling,

Or cackling,

Of the trees,

What I see,

Is the magical Autumn Blend.

A squirrel with a nut,

Makes the cut,

Through the bank in the trees.

As one might see,

Wherever I go,

I can experience the Autumn Blend.

Do you feel the cold?

The oh so chilling cold?

Do you do what you’re told?

Well, I can see where I want to be,

And that is within the Autumn Blend.