As Pennsylvania air holds me in its embrace,
I am greeted by leaves of orange, yellow, and red;
The crisp autumn wind whips my pink-highlighted face,
And I’m glad that today I chose to leave my bed;
The sun breaks through clouds and burrows gently in my skin,
I watch as it bathes every hill until dripping with gold;
I adjust the sleeves of the cashmere I’m in,
And ponder why autumnal beauty never seems to get old;
From the bricks of Old Main to the paths where I walk,
I am thankful for fall in Slippery Rock.
The leaves show me a song when they crunch ‘neath my feet,
Accompanied by a rustle-tinged breeze,
With a bird-chirping chorus and woodfire beat,
The perfect symphony to put me at ease;
I delight in treats of sweet pumpkin and spiced apple flavor,
They warm me through like a hug;
These feelings are what I’ll remember to savor,
Along with each plant, tree, rock and bug.
In spite of my bias and qualms I may talk,
I am thankful for Fall in Slippery Rock.
