"Holiday"

Crunch...
Crunch...
Crunch...
The wind is colder than usual
The brisk air pricks at my skin
Crunch...
Crunch...
Crunch...
Smells of diluted pollen
Dying trees
And wet leaves enter my nasal passages
Ah-Choo!
I'm allergic
But it's still my favorite "holiday"
Crunch...
Crunch...
Crunch...
The sun peaks through the clouds
It blinds me briefly
Then it warms my tingling face
Crunch...
Crunch...
Crunch...
As my favorite color morphs into a rainbow, I admire the harvest colors
And I sigh as a smile stretches across my face
Crunch...
Crunch...
Crunch...
I purposely go out of my way to step on the crunchy looking leaf