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Red Maple
Someday, a simple fall breeze,
The crunches of leaves fallen from trees.
The air is cool, but the mug of tea in my hands is not.
The world is full of hues of reds and golds,
Lining the entirety of the earth’s folds.
The smoke, rising up and showing its face,
Taking up almost all of the brisk air’s space.
The crackling of a fireplace- warmth
Comforts the soul and everything is alright.
Here, in the fall, up in the mountains,
Everything will be alright.
Someday, the leaves will fall for me.
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A craving for fall.