BLUES OF AUTUMN. By Jude kyrie

The misting of early morning
Catches a chill in the autumn air.
Even the solitary sounds
Of  crackling brown leaves
Beneath my feet are
crying a dirge of loneliness.
Occasional drops of rain
touch my face and feel like tears.
Or a lonesome wind
Dances through
the skeleton branches.
The smell of the woodlands
Has changed it taste solitary.
Trees hold their secrets in silence.
Summer is now a passing liaison
And the autumn as fierce
.as a lady scorned.