Autumn

High but not so strong was the morning sun
A later rise and earlier set, has all of nature adjusting their clocks
Dew glistens on the knife like blades of grass
Birds chirp to the beat of the concrete jungle, oblivious to the depravity of space
A sigh of relief breathed from the overture of heat
Trees begin to shed their green garments opting for a rather rusty look with hues of browns, yellows and reds
A crisp Autumnal breeze hits my face
The smell of a new beginning, the smell of Autumn