Or can you tell what it is about?

These are the days when the birds come back,
A very few, a bird or two,
To take a backward look.

These are the days when skies put on
The old, old sophistries of June—
A blue and gold mistake.

O, fraud that cannot cheat the bee
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief.

Till ranks of seeds their witness bear,
And softly through the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.

Oh, sacrament of summer days,
Oh, last communion in the haze,
Permit a child to join,

Thy sacred emblems to partake,
Thy consecrated bread to break,
Taste thine immortal wine!

The poem was written by Emily Dickinson and is entitled "Indian Summer"

Very good Georgia.You can read more similar poems about "fall" here