Autumn (a poem)
- Dec 22, 2024
- 1 min read
We're at that time of year again
When 'it gets crisp in the fall'
When the ghostly beam flickers over the ice-cold river
When the clouds hang grey and low.
Autumnal whispers tell you to go after that job,
Do what you desire,
Go on that date.
What are you thinking?
No, I need to trust, this autumn.
Sharp air like knives cutting through you;
They say it's a time of mental stimulation.
Can I see past what warm hazy days hid from me?
Can I relinquish the comfort of staying put?
Regardless, I walk.
I keep hope for happy things.
I see the orange glow of lights in a window.
It gives an idea of warmth
Long overdue.
Written by: Helen Flower
Written: 01/10/24
Edited: 22/12/24
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