When the equinox is
approaching
I will know it
because the tough
leather shell around my heart
shrinks and tightens

And I look at the
leaves on the ground
and think, "how ugly"

And the brown dry cracked
dirt from where too many
feet have kicked up
the green that
was once.

I see only brown.
even the yellow is
brown

Winter is not yet here
and already
I am dreading the spring