It occurred to me as I sat down to write a poem about my favorite season, that the poem I would write and the one my kids would write would be quite different.  So, you know, I wrote both.

Me

Walking on an October day
A golden sun warms up my skin
The nippy wind swirls at play
And chilled fingers find pockets to snuggle in

My feet meet leaves to crush below
The soft crunch-crunch so satisfying
A flock of geese avoiding snow
Honk their hellos and keep on flying

My eyes raise up, behold a feast
Spectacular views on every side
Rich gold, bright red crowns every tree
And flaming orange burst out with pride

A whiff of smoke drifts through the air
I hurry home to fireside
I breath the scent: a meal to share
Of bubbling stew and apple pie

Rich flavors roll across my tongue
The tang of cider, sweet and tart
The fresh hot bread like when I was young
And pumpkin everything to thrill my heart

Them

It’s cold, my jacket feels so itchy
But these pumpkin guts are fun and squishy
I like the sound my mother makes
When I jump in the leaf pile she just raked
Those leaves are red and gold and brown
I watch them dance as they fall down
Then…what’s that smell? It’s apple pie!
Let’s go inside, make the fire high
Let’s drink some cocoa (the stew you can keep)
And tell ghost stories until we sleep.