A poem for fall

Summer’s crawling ivy across the gray brick wall,
has turned a russet red, a flag of coming fall.

The cat gets closer now when sleeping on the bed.
The birds are slower too, so fast cat is well fed.

Crickets have stopped their call, and swallows south have gone.
There’s fireflies at dusk, and new spun webs at dawn.

The morning light seems soft, its brightness slow to build.
The nights are growing cool, and mornings are now chilled.

There’s pumpkins growing fat, and apples piled up high.
Each piece will find its place in sweet, hot steaming pie.

A lighter wardrobes done, it’s time for thicker clothes.
And socks are coming out, to warmly comfort toes.

It’s darker by the day when sunset finds its mark.
Soon fires will be lit, to warm with just a spark.

The trees are getting sparse, their leaves are falling fast
And deer are coming close, to nibble corn left cast.

The squirrels are finding food and building up a store
With bits of seeds and nuts before the rains do pour.

The goldenrod’s in bloom, red grapes are getting fat
Soon there will be cider and wine will fill the vat.

I know when Autumn’s come, I know when it is near.
When family will soon meet to greet and close the year.