Autumn is a woman with a top hat and golden eyes atop a horse as dark as night.
Autumn is the auburn hills glowing in the light of the harvest moon.
Autumn is the pumpkins and the squash and the nostalgia.
Autumn is the endless fields of corn and and the scarecrows standing lonely, their only companions the blackbirds of whom they must ward off.
Autumn is the gusts of wind and the fallen leaves that swish with the footsteps of a shadow.
Autumn is a cat's tiptoe and the silhouette of a wolf.
Autumn is candlelight and shivers down your back.
Autumn is apples and cider, pumpkin spice lattes and pie.
Autumn is seeds and colors and the smoky smell of cold air and leaves.
Autumn is morning fog, and endless woods.
Autumn is darkness, and Autumn is light.
Autumn is hope and sadness, death and life.
Autumn is a free spirit, never to be conquered.
Autumn has many identities- yet the question that will never be answered is
Who Is Autumn?
Posted in response to the challenge PAST CONTESTS: Fall '23: Writing.
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