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WINTER TIME GRIEF…
The long hot summer
has disappeared over the horizon
yielding to the arrival of the cooling fall.
Despite their approaching fate—
the annual leaves’ excision—
the towering trees proudly stand firm and tall.
The steamy sticky sweaty nights
have all gone; giving way
to the cool ebony breeze. Horny crickets
and frogs no longer sing their eerie mating song.
Squirrels organize their cupboards in the hollows of the trees;
and funny things grow on the graves of the fall’s fallen leaves.
In the early evens’ mist, sun of change ushered in
the close of day. Flickering shadows hover over time’s footprints.
Birds—angels of the sky—have spread their wings and flown away;
leaving behind empty nests to catch the winter’s coming events.
Strange how nature’s circadian rhythms
bring about change.
Yet in the winter season of humanity
so much remain the same.
Even in the winter cold, sable blood flows
from the rape of justice.
No matter the season, the blind goddess
remains a scheming mistress.
