Reclining in my favorite,
low rocking chair
inside a calico blue kitchen
scented by pumpkin spice muffins,
I gaze through the window
to a point where sun
strikes leaves of shimmering gold
strung on trees in autumn.
In straw fields
lie orange pumpkin rounds.
Corn stalk sentries
stand tall and erect.
It is time to harvest
and reap in good thoughts.
