Ode to an October Window

 I am these annuals drying in the window box
 And the leaves blushing on wall climbing vines 
 Or yellow-paled in the mirrored trees,
 For I too tire, well-seasoned in my own falling.

Season Sighting

 With reflecting branches just barely,
 And red decreasing leaves framing
 Those double panes home warming fairly,
 Sentry window is falling proclaiming.