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October 27th, 2018

The leaves have fallen
from the trees,
the sky is grey, like
the ancient, monolithic
glacial boulders.
A soft, chill breeze
blows from the lake
and freezes my
breath in the air.
Summer is fading
into winter,
dying slowly like
a grandmother with
dementia. Mother Nature
no longer remembers
the joyous heat or
the tender leaves of before,
instead giving us
the frigid winds of change.
Like the seasons,
everything changes,
everything fades and dies.
Like the green forest
winnowed down to twigs
by the cruel North Wind.
And it is as grim
as the storm clouds
coalescing ex nihilo
against the horizon.
Autumn leaves blowing in the breeze,
Cool wind against my skin,
The seasons are changing as fast as I am,
So what does that mean for us?
Our summer romance is over,
Dry your tears before September turns them to dust,

Bundle up, wrap your arms in cotton,
Guard your heart against the winter chill that’s coming,
Build a fire to thaw your frigid limbs,
I can hear your bones crackling in the flames,

When spring arrives I hope some of our love survives,
These changing seasons,
as they flutter by,
Our skin once fresh and smooth,
Turned stiff and cracked like uncured   leather,

Where did the time go I wonder?
Our youth swallowed by time,
Taken in flashes of quickly aging months,
How many summers passed us by while our heads were in the clouds?

How long before we join the pebbles beneath our feet?
Will we get a chance to see one last season of bare trees,
A sea of red and orange littered upon the ground,
We are changing faster than the seasons.
Youth is fleeting, enjoy it.
why is the world so dark while the sky is still
so blue?
orange streetlights burn weak beams through the rain,
my road long, simple, straight ahead.
the end is blocked by parades of cars with headlamps
filling my eyes with stars.
there's a silence in the trees,
no leaves linger on the pavements, gently rustling in a breeze.
there's pure silence.
the cold seems to force the strong echo of
i hug myself down this endless road,
longing for a warm bed.
i wonder when summer ended,
when the mornings turned from sun drenched
to frostbitten.
when warm sunbeams turned into worn-out light bulbs,
and we began to dread the blue skies.
why is the world so dark while the sky is still
so blue?
so nobody sees her crying.
The seasons define her face
Summer and spring
In blended grace

Amid blatant tranquility
Cheeks as roses grow  
Along undisguised serenity
Curls like rivers flow

There is something in her face
Which nature cannot trace
Yet all of creation lies
Written in her eyes
Fainche 5d
if spring brings forth love
and rain quench the thirst of it,
then fall is the end
elle 7d
pawprints in the snow
like a monochrome painting
white and white and white

the freezing woods sleep
under a blanket of frost
nothing to be seen

the chimney puffs smoke
children run and laugh and play
eyes and smiles bright

cold and bare, they stand
trees and grass and plants and sky
waiting for the spring.

as frost gives way to
dew, as flowers begin to bloom,
the world awakens

the seedlings grow, the
trees proudly show their colors
every shade of green

the rain falls down, the
children frown, yet to learn of
mud and mess and play

time ticks by, good things
begin, temperature creeps up
school’s out, it’s summer!

the sun is always
there, a reminder of the
heat and life and light

the birds fly high, their
eggs hatch and grow and learn
sweet songs fill the air

running and jumping
off to camp they go
kids enjoy their fun

playtime ends and so
begins a race to get the best
supplies for fall.

leaves turn brown and float
gently to the ground, a fire
of red and orange

holidays go by
memories and scares and thanks
one for every month

homework piles up
and yet the children find time
to romp and explore

animals prepare
stocking food and finding homes
ready for winter.
a collection of
haikus, to tell a story
of a year gone by
brittle bones
osteoporosis heart
pain slipping into the marrow that sips
the endless routine of motion
those clumsy hands blistering
into the open spaces of hollow ventricles
blood is where you last lay your skeletons to rest
but the closet is where i could lay down
listen to all the hangers falling into seismic harmony
until my chest aligns with yours  
like any other bruise by any other name i would have you
gently misplaced on the side of a skinned knee or
clenched knuckle
i am your *** and you are mine
if i could breathe like a king i would as
the romantic exhale is caught in your skin
when the fickle violence leaves the lipstick of my mouth
you talk about the emperor mole in the middle of your back
touching your spine and how i retrace it every night with my finger
and it's almost like the heavens are here
in a small bed on a mundane apartment
that could be anybody's
about you and no one else

Then pick myself up as spring daisies.
A little bit of therapy for myself... I don’t like writing about dark things.
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