Upon the grey and black rocks, waves collide,
White-capped giants crash with a thunderous roar,
While up on the hill, the torn flag’s pride
Flutters in the winds, a memory of yore.

The grass, now yellow, sighs under the weight
Of autumn’s breath, a fleeting, whispered song,
As sandy shores yield to the ocean’s fate,
Each wave a claim, relentless and strong.

Birds battle the gusts of the North Atlantic,
Struggling to soar in the tempest’s embrace,
While leaves of the maple, in hues so frantic,
Dance in the chill, a vibrant, fleeting grace.

Here, nature's tale of loss and change unfolds,
In every crash and flutter, beauty holds.

M. S Chandler