Walk in the Fall Rain

Fall rain smells better than spring.
Forget stale winter and fusty summer.
It is too cold to smell, too hot to whiff;
Just interims between the sowing and the reaping.

Fall smells better than spring,
Because the fall comes from experience.
Like roast beef in a pot,
Waiting to be served.

Fall is memory,
Filled with colors seen,
deeds done,
reunions held.

It is mature color,
Magnified thrice,
Yellows, reds, and russets,
Not just shades of new born green.