Weather report

Autumn in the park 2

Autumn in the park

This is my autumn, my trees, my valleys, my estuaries
this is the season of my impending end
how I revel in the leaves knowing it is a trap
it is the end of summer even with the red and gold
painting it lively, the death is coming

I miss golden autumn

This is my autumn, the way the breeze touches my cheek
how the wind gusts come quickly, cold and rivaling December
as they wish. This is my autumn, the clean taste of the air
swan songs of annuals in their last gasps, and for me

rough waters

The grays are coming in fast
and the waters are rough
Adiós por ahora–

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