A New York Autumn


Feeling the cool wind flow through my hair

hearing the crunch of the fallen leaves under my shoes

smelling hot cider as I walk in the door

seeing all the colors of the leaves

tasting the warm apple pie just made from apple picking

thats my favorite time. 



Your short but sweet poem definitely has me yearning for that brisk seasom of Autumn. I really loved it, and can definitely go with all the simple imagery it gave me. Never thought I'd say this, but I can't wait until the end of summer now!



When I moved from New York to Georgia, it made me realize I loved it so much. It brought back memeories from when i was a little girl. And in Georgia, the trees don't even change colors, so i just had to make those memories into words. 

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741