The tears, obstructed in their long descent
by zephyr’s kiss and held in chill embrace,
were shed within a storm which lightning rent
asunder to reveal her hidden face.
Amorphous, ever changing in a grief
which comes each year with sister’s slow demise,
she weeps to emulate each falling leaf.
The world now feigns a stark and barren guise
as seasons change. Life slows to start anew
but melancholic sadness comes our way
with every raindrop’s soft caress and dew
which sparkles on the graves of yesterday.
A winter’s dirge is sung and autumn’s proud
kaleidoscope’s interred with ermine shroud.
With all this heat, I thought a seasonal breath of chilly air might make a difference.