I sit perched
Not perched but perfectly placed
By the door in english classroom
In the english hallway
Four doors down from the end

The air here is warm
Though this morning it must have been below
Below the freezing point for water
And my engine

And from my perfectly placed seat
I can see
The yellow leaves
Warm against the approaching winters wind

Though it is only September

The classroom- full of life
But only in the sense that
A dozen kids sit taking a quiz
Worth nothing but a number in a book

The life makes it warm
Or is it the fans above
Man made just not by man
No, not man but a fan and a shadow of man

When the yellow leaves echo the cold
When the door closes
And the light
Fades with the warmth