Gloom and grayness,
Rain is weeping.
Autumn — sadness in November,
Leaves are falling, soft and tender,
Dreams lie still, in quiet sleeping.

Mists lie white like a soft veil,
Long is the morning’s pale light.
Nature waits for snow and blizzards,
Forest stands — stripped, almost bare.

The year has passed in toil and care,
Soon, very soon — the New Year’s near,
Life goes round in endless motion,
What gifts will it bring, hidden there?

not everything
that is broken, should be put
back together

Heavy, is your loss
"Pitter-Patter" of claws, silent
A lack of weight, weighs.

Truth doesn't change

just because you choose

not to believe it.

the clouds tonight
once white, floating in blue skies
reappear
in the dark, in the light
from a waning moon