Autumn in Maine

Mother nature sprinkles secrets of fall in the trees:

The pines,

The oaks,

And maples. 

They say hello through their vibrant colors of

Butter yellow,

Cinnamon orange,

Carmine red,

And emerald green. 

The estuary is an impossible blue.

The light shimmers reflecting the rich sun,

A blinding white. 

I am wearing wool sweaters in September,

Even jeans.

My blonde-ish hair sways in the wind, 

Swishing at its every breath. 

The land around me is alive,

And soon their voices will be more than just a whisper but a 

Song.

I too have entered into a new season of life,

Changing and evolving. 

I go to bed early,

Call my mom,

Stargaze. 

Autumn in Maine is good. 

– Daphne Easterly-Zebley is attending from the Maret School in Washington D.C.