Fall Sneaks--By Diane Webster--United States

Fall Sneaks

Mornings sleep in longer
as darkness refuses to rise.
Geese honk overhead when residents
shuffle gravel to the newspaper box.
Grasshoppers cling to east-facing vines
while absorbing sunshine into cool bodies.
Along the river, leaves yellow first
in sporadic patches that drop
into the current always flowing
the path of least resistance.

Like Fall tiptoeing into days
like an abandoned cat slowly adopting
you as family by coming around
more and more with rubs and purrs
that eventually lands the cat a name
and a new home to curl up in
while frost melts off the metal roof.

Diane Webster grew up in Eastern Oregon before she moved to Colorado.  She enjoys drives in the mountains to view all the wildlife and scenery and takes amateur photographs.  Writing poetry provides a creative outlet exciting in images and phrases Diane thrives in.  Her work has appeared in The Hurricane Review, Eunoia Review, Illya's Honey, and other literary magazines.