A fading season, I walk alone in its’ fading light, the crunch of leaves sounds just so right, there’s a stillness in the air around me, everywhere, I can almost hold it in my palm, brings an inner calm, it’s Autumn’s  dusk, it’s Winter’s dawn, on the fringes of bitter cold, like the fringes in an Aspens’ leaf,  the last of a season’s gold, as a chill wind starts to blow in, and snow clouds swallow the mountains