Autumn is a fox, his fur a deep orange
Hidden among the carpet of rusty red leaves.
Summer is a hare, her fur a creamy brown
Nibbling the dew-sprinkled grass.
The end of August, the blackberries are ripe,
Apples a shiny red.
The beginning of September, cut corn leaves fields of Stubble.
The chase of seasons has begun.
The fox pursues the hare and snarls at a tree.
Slowly its leaves turn crimson and cascade to the ground.
Gaining energy, the fox draws level with the hare.
There's a nip in the air today.
Soon the fox tires while the summer hare races on;
The summer sun comes out and hats and scarves
The two seasons begin to tire.
They sit and survey the landscape.
A black arrow in the sky points towards
A loft-ful of apples, pumpkins, corn.
The nuts and berries have been collected and
Spiky conker shells split, leaving their glossy seed
The autumn fox snaps at summer;
His jaws sink into her neck.
Her blood colours the sky pink:
Her body forms a thin layer of frost on the ground.
Fire 16; Arabella Toler