A distant moan, a growl, the treetops shake,
A rafter of turkeys wander out of the trees,
Pecking through the grass, feathers ruffled in the breeze,
Dawn approaches, the Dismal Swamp awakes.
The deer disappear, under the still-green leaf,
Fat they’ve all grown through summer’s dog days,
Soon trees’ will be dressed in a multi-hued blaze,
The year’s end approaches, stealing in like a thief.
‘Tis still warm, but brown, yellow, crispy dried,
The first leaves of fall skitter cross the ground,
Faint click-click as they tumble all around,
The chorus slowly builds, the forest’s aside…
All will fall – hickory, maple, sweet gum
Sing a faint song: Fall is come, fall is come…
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