Wrinkled leaves and ruffled feathers
Quite an assortment of colours
To orange, green and yellow hues
Add black, white and red too
Who could blame you for being a little blue
You have a valid excuse
Finding a meal was easier in summer
For a downy woodpecker
Treetops shrouded in a thick blanket
Drawn by the sound of the falls
I make my way through the woods
While you sleep peacefully
When I reach the bridge
The sight is surreal, déjà-vu
Rushing River runs by, waves
The rapids’ music, rocks
Autumn leaves in the wind, shivers
Tiny droplets condense on my lenses
Memories flood my mind
Sounds and sights so familiar
I stare, searching, misty
The weight of the snow
Has us all down on our knees
Even the poor trees
Maybe it’s a joke, a little riddle
But nobody is laughing
For Canadian Thanksgiving
Ain’t s’posed to be this way
Except north of the Arctic Circle
What am I to do
Company coming for dinner
Can’t even reach the BBQ
Colourful leaves fall
Drawn into their world
Playful little creatures
By Lens and By Pens 