November’s stiffening wind brings change to my yard,
Stripping green from wooden sentries, exposing limbs with no regard.
The vibrant leaves of autumn now gathered here in piles,
Fading colors of last season, inert echoes of remembered smiles.
Fallow fields seem to be sleeping,
Some are dreaming of blankets of snow.
Tiny critters seek tunnels for sheltering,
Hidden beneath a snow-filled row.
As the sun’s diurnal motion sinks lower on the scene,
Daylight grows shorter leaving more night to dream.
Shifting seasons change at their own pace,
Some are coasting; others sprinting in this annual race.
“Ormsby – A sturdy people!”