Fall

Fall

Fall
Leaves brown.
The wind spreads
seeds in the air.
Proud farmers harvest
golden, ripe crops of wheat.
Frost covers nature’s garden.
Soon there will be a time of rest.
And the bells of the village say to
all “Your work is done. It’s time to give thanks.”

An etheree is a poem form that starts with one syllable and increases one syllables up to ten.