BY SHARON INGRAHAM

The day after Halloween and it ’ s gray as a pallbearer ’ s suit The sky shrouds the city and even the wind snatches at leaves half-heartedly As if the effort to bring them down is just too great Let winter take over , the breezes seem to sigh We ’ re done here .

Funny how one day Autumn fires alive the hours And the next , she ’ s danced offstage in a huff Or perhaps , not put out or off , just ready to go Once the Arctic fronts breathe with regularity She knows better than to outstay her time Winter can be such a bitch if she senses malingering

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