Autumn’s Gentle Whisper.

Long-anticipated cool Fall air, come drift softly through my trees,

As you whisper sweetly, “It’s time,” to all their trembling leaves.

I’ll gladly watch them spin, gently to the ground,

In shimmering shades of crimson-orange and ginger-golden brown,

Dear Fall, please send your chill, that nips and tingles in the night,

As it tenderly caresses the purplish, silvery moonlight.

Scarves, sweaters, and woolen gloves, I’ll unpack with happy cheer,

Knowing you rustle the air and are silently drawing near.

A cup of hot coffee, a good book to end the day,

By my window, I’ll sit and await your arrival, as daylight fades to misty gray.

So come Fall come, let your breezes tousle the air,

Let your soft voice comfort me like a heartwarming prayer.

And help me to remember, each year that you come ‘round,

Of your gentle change and your blessings that abound.

(A poem by Anthony Wayne Kalberg, September 1, 2025)