Autumn's Tempest Poem by Ronni ManoaHofbauer

Miniature cyclones emerge,
From the forest's leafy floor,
Autumn's discarded palette
Now a swirling, airborne decor.

The gentle zephyr intensifies,
Transforming to a howling gale,
Sweeping through branch and bough,
Setting wildlife on hurried trail.

In the tempest's passing wake,
An unsettling quiet descends,
The woods, once alive with sound,
Now silent as the storm transcends.

The air, tainted and heavy,
Hangs with an unnatural chill,
A deathly cold permeates,
The forest, suddenly still.