This time of year shapes the end of a season.
Seeing the leaves gasping for one last day
while the masses look on with good reason.
Sharing the beauty of mortality leading to decay.
Snuggled in a sweater that reeks of death
because of the poison carefully placed inside.
A process designed to kill a moths breath
saving the clothing to a food being denied.
Sharing the fruits of a harvest long since gone
to a practice of production without any kin.
Found only in the places grown to depend on,
spending green in greater quantities is our sin.
'tis the season to spend on heat that leaves
as fast as the work settled outside the home.
Required to pay for our comfort under the eaves,
surely these prices will lead to us living in Rome
As we look with wonder at the trees color,
keep in mind the coming winter as it shakes
any feeling of warmth from our wallets dollar;
leaving one to wonder if thems the breaks.