Monday, September 26, 2011

More From the Poetry Corner of My Mind.

I feel the nip of an upcoming winter
blowing through my open window.
It settles upon me with an icy feel of melancholy.
My thoughts tumble down like the dying leaves of trees
preparing for slumber.
I wish I could prepare for sleep.
Shake my arms, let things fall to the ground.
Close my eyes until I feel the call
to grow again.