The park radiates autumn.
My nose smells crispness.
My heart feels exuberance.
Crimson bonnets and honey curls
Purple crowns and ginger coronas
Rubies and diamonds and emeralds—
Fireworks against baby blue skies
I see baubles and sequins in my mind’s eye.
Colors in my ears.
If I could put one color into a crayon
it would be called magic.