I am the autumn colors that come calling, the reds, and oranges, that spark like flames

And the wind that whispers through trees like names

I am the milk light of the moon that beams through the brush

And that shadows that cast shapes and figures on the world again

I am lost, over and within the garden wall 

And lost in the deep unknown, underneath the brush

I am the woods that keeps secrets hidden; finger locked over lips

And exposes them to those who roam for me

I am lost in the swirling of time, hours pass like seconds

And place that's kept away

I am found where children can spend a lifetime

And leave to go home the very next day