September Sun

This is a poem I finished today. 

A slight chill is in the air,
Soft crunching underfoot,
As leaves finally break free
Of the tight grasp of the stubborn trees,
Lined along the sides of the streets
That run back and forth near my house.

The sad, bare branches
Become more evident every day
As they prepare themselves
For the inevitable winter
That is slowly creeping in,
And making its’ presence known.

The September sun shines brightly,
Throwing shadows in places
That July would never imagine.
Once again, getting our minds off summer,
And bringing forlorn thoughts
Of long sleeves, and sweaters.

God has His own special way
Of making us ready.
Like using autumn to gradually prepare us
For coming cold weather.
And allowing aches and pains
To soften the blow of old age.

As I sit and watch the children play,
My thoughts turn to earlier days.
When that was me, hiding in a pile of leaves,
Waiting for the chance to jump out
And scare my friends.
Then we’d laugh and run, and run, and run.
All the while, ignoring the September sun.