Autumn

Dead blossoms leaves,

whirling in the autumn breeze,

down to the cold hard ground.

Dreadful, dawn wind bites

like a dog, clouds are sly cats,

slipping quietly by.

Frozen mirror leaves

locked in ice, suspended  in

a slice of cold times.

Bonfire night,

popping fire works,

in all different shades.

Roofs are frozen too,

with a bite of spice,

and sleeping beauty’s touch.