Fiorella heard the rustle of some leaves falling this morning, and wrote:
Be of good cheer
Autumn is here
Which means, my dear.
That winter is near
This little poem might not be as meaningful to Fiorella's friends in the northern reaches of the country as it is to her, but remember, where Fio lives, "cold" starts at 70 degrees and rarely sinks down to the freezing point.