Prelude to Crimson wear~ Bhuyanshi Talukdar

Turned to a golden brown
before falling from the cold and bare frown.
The dying air grew dark and gray,
the scent of woodsmoke sinks red disk.
Blades shed their dullshed,
the length of nights swells and dwells.
The best cooking stage of Turkey,
On the Thanksgiving Day.
A hot cup of gratitude warms the house,
welcomes the heartitude of loved ones.
Blanketing the world with a canvas of diamonds,
Twinkling the staircase with aromas of almonds.
Sharing pumpkin stories by the fire,
Snuggling napkin worries by the time.
Late Grandpa used to rake up lush sheets,
and late Aunt used to wear up rush heats.