The silence in October,
is beyond these words.
From the mild cold and morning dew,
to this mid temperate Sun's hue.
All these flavours with daunting blues,
you see wings fly off to calming views.
This time in fractals now you realise,
time is flying in my locked paradise.
Stuck in this habitat for way to long,
Now I hear whispers in my October song.
Ending this year with variety in tears.
From disclosure to disease,
from disasters to deceased.
For this season of fall in yellow and green.
For the news of end is falling in.
Seeing these mild heated afternoons,
feeling those fear of loosing dearest aloof.
This series of season,
this sequence of months.
Calling to summarise this beauty in rust.
Now I see this year's fate is bend,
I am hearing October's rustle to end.
This time of the years is always special
