Cicadas give their call, katydids answer,

Fire-flies’ flashing and setting sun, make me a dancer.

The twilight filters through the grassy glade, the evening air rolls in, a warm breeze cutting like a blade.

The flowers have bloomed, and crops have grown. Harvest time is here, and with it come the deer. The fauns have grown, the creatures ready for the coming cold, but right here, right now, I rest.

Summer is over, Fall has begun.

Tomorrow, I shall make a warm cup of coffee I think…