Anticipation
by Howard Osborne

Autumn’s last days, so resigned, gather round
Ground is littered with leaves of gold and red
It is said that for almost all, the time has come
Some nods of acceptance and a nervous smile
While summer memories, sadly now quite rare
See bare black branches that lost their beauty
Duty done, now let the winds take the leaves
No-one believes they would not heed the call
As all must hunker down, here comes winter

It does not take an insight of prophet or sage
The page must be turned at this time of year
As a fear of freezing should be offset by hope
To cope with unforgiving wind, ice and snow
Low temperatures but with high expectations
Conversations with Nature, asking to survive
To thrive, despite prospects of a grim season
Trees on notice, to be more than silhouettes
All bets have been placed, here comes winter