When summer ends, it brings the days of fall,
And flocks of birds converge in graceful flight.
The trees prepare to have their leaves ignite,
For they discern the touch of autumn's shawl.
A busy man at work declines to rest
Until his lawn is fit for winter's gown.
An evening chill begins to sweep the town,
A sign that winter is an early guest.
Across the street, a lawn remained unkept;
It harbored varied weeds in matted grass.
The drizzly morning saw a mower pass,
And one misty-eyed dandelion wept.