autumn chill
the smell of wood ash
from a ring of stones
Nathalie Buckland
already autumn
I breathe the smell
of wet soil
Françoise Maurice
my must-have list
skipping across the street—
autumn wind
Lorin Ford
sandstone cliffs
somewhere across the valley
shrouded in mist
Ross Coward
first frost—
wood smoke drifting
above the cemetery
Earl Livings
Echidna Tracks 