Warm Rust


When evening air turns,
the crisp kisses
my face and the hairs
stand up on
still bare arms,
I know it is here.

Evening walks turn golden
with the autumn
setting sun, the hazy
dust of fall harvest
spreading a
shimmering glow.

Familiar crunch,
sound that
mirrors the changing
colors, that shift.
Warm, rusty leaves
float and swirl.

Bold and bright,
reds and oranges
melting into
the perfect rainbow
epitomizing fall.


9 thoughts on “Warm Rust

  1. Lovely imagery to describe the beautiful autumn landscape in all its splendour. The ‘crisp kisses’, ‘shimmering glow’ and ‘rusty leaves float and swirl’ describe the scene so perfectly, ‘Warm Rust’ and all its accompaniments.

      1. I always feel that way too, and we don’t have your scorching summers here. It’s the colours, smells and sounds of autumn that fascinate. Not to mention the morning mists: ‘Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness’ must be one of my very favourite lines.

      2. That is such a wonderfully perfect line! Ahh, yes. Morning mist. Nothing beats the cozy feeling of waking to a world blanketed in that lovely stuff 🙂 Even better when it lasts long into the morning! Misty fall hikes = Absolutely favorite 🙂

      3. You’ll just have to write a few more poems about it, Christina. I’d love to read them if you did. 🙂 We’ve had a few morning mists already around here, and what I love is that as they always signal the onset of a perfectly autumnal day: warm sunshine and clear, blue skies. Sigh at the thought… 🙂

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