The Intrusion... Poem by Connetta Jean

The old cabin door
stood open...
as if waiting
for my departure.
I've come to know
the old house
much too well..
sometimes
i feel welcome
other times not..
this was a time
i felt I was
intruding...
the first of Autumn
was touching
late summer trees..
summer was passing.
To know Autumn
is to believe
Winter's her lover..
for soon she will fall
into his grasp
their courtship is cold
and short....
first she must
redress the leaves
(green is not
a Autumn color...)
She will paint
Natures canvas
gold and red,
purple and orange...
& before she's done..
Trees will stand naked.
This late summer chill
made me feel
winter was here...
flurting with Autumn...
they've been lovers so long
time can predict them...
the old door open
said many things...
as i left i watched
autumns first leaves
dancing across
wooden floors...
I did not
close the door.