I miss autumn.

I miss stretching my arms through sleeves and tying boot laces.

I miss shivering in the slight cold as I wait in line for a cuppa.

I miss wrapping my neck in a scarf and topping off with a toque.

I miss the forest turning into a living display of fireworks.

I miss the crunch of the grass under the morning frost.

I miss seasonal spices: cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, cardamom.

I miss fumbling for keys with thick gloved fingers.

I miss puffing smokey breaths like a contented dragon.

I miss pants. But mostly I miss autumn.

Author guidance for This poem

Chapter one was written while I was living in Singapore, specifically at the time when we transitioned from "wet season" to "more wet season" (as us exchange students liked to joke). Suffice to say I was longing for a Canadian autumn experience.

Chapter two was written when I returned to Canada, jumping out of my tropical summer into a temperate winter. And expletive deleted, it's a cold one!

Please feel free to add your own musings, whether they be on seasons or some other subject.

updated Jan 23 by Jackerbie