Once you pass the barrier, the urban and raucous city comes to a rest
The city which never sleeps is unheard in this Arcadian world
It’s the start of autumn; the leaves are beginning to fall off deciduous trees
They appear in sepia, russet, and saffron colors,
Though if one looks close enough, a patch of amber and auburn will reveal itself
The numbers are gradually decreasing to null
Foliage begins to rest on the earth’s soil, falling gracefully down with gravity’s pull,
Passionate, furious, affectionate, all at once
It’s crisp outside and the breeze is chilly
The fleece inside my jacket warms me as a powerful gust of wind blows
Scents of cinnamon, pumpkin, and clove fill the autumn air
Two squirrels eye my presence;
One with an orange hue munches on a delightful acorn, while the other searches for its own
I walk, hearing the crunching crispy sounds of the friable leaves
A bird perches on the intertwined branches, picking at the remaining red current berries
Adjacent, a bush is covered in gossamer; its wispy appearance interlaces
Resting upon the monolithic rocks, I familiarize myself with my surroundings
A Labrador and its owner walk past, possibly oblivious to the majestic world
To me, the park holds a history kept for almost 200 years
It carries surreptitious passages unknown