End of Summer

When summer leaves and takes her warming shawl,
The birds toward the south begin to fly.
The leaves of wizened trees begin to dye
As shorter days announce the hues of fall.

In town, a weary man lies down to rest;
His lawn, pristine and green, begins to sleep.
An autumn chill at night begins to creep,
A sign that winter calls to start her quest.

Across the street, a lawn remained unkept
And harbored various weeds in carpet grass.
The drizzly morning saw a mower pass
As one misty-eyed dandelion wept.