Where I grew up, the colors never changed.
But now I live where green will turn to gold,
And red, and orange; carefully arranged
In patterns wild, and symmetries untold –

Perhaps you know the feeling I speak of:
For most of summer, I await the turn,
As though the world itself was full in love
And blushed to see it’s lover’s fast return,

And lit as though a love scene from the past:
A world of meaning found in mere
Contrast