Untitled Autumn Poem

Pale husks,
We lie upon these,
Somber fields of browning grass,
An orange moon rising,
O're these darkened,
Cloudy days,

The scraping bustle of,
Leaves now dead,
Their reds and yellows,
Long since drained by,
Slow decay,
A season's change,
Made known to all,

Yet soon we must,
Yield to Winter and her,
Cold embrace,
A white shroud to hold us all,
Just beyond,
Our time of giving Thanks,

Not quite yet,
Was I ready to depart from,
Days and nights of ghoulish,
Hungers and ghostly haunts,
But as with all things,
Time devours all we love,
Our days in this life,
The universe's great repast.