All the leaves have fallen from the tree that grows outside my window.
Abandoned by its milliard shrouds of life it stands stark and naked.
It ceased to sway as summer went away even now it stands as if frozen.
A memory sweet with sincere regards is all that is left of this fading season.
When dreams are but breaths sometimes held, sometimes exhaled,
The air eventually runs out, a final gasp and then a slowly sinking slumber.
I smile as the thought touches my mind like a ray of sunlight on my face.
Soft, warm and gentle it sits until that oncoming winter breeze summons it.
I arise from my desk as the window rattles to see what I may find.
A vision of hope, no such luck, just grey clouds seeming to race on by.
Storm winds are rising as tempests rage in some exotic distant land.
Should I take comfort in the vagary of unannounced decisions?
The things I kept close, held so dear are but ornaments without their paint.
No more glitter to attract the curious they have all turned black or white.
I feel cold and alone, so hollow and empty that despair echoes in my gut.
Like a Buddhist temple bell it sounds in the background warning of changes to come.
However, solace does not come to balance the aggravation that my futility incurs.
I am walking in circles only stopping long enough to beat my head against the wall.
No more words, no more thoughts, no verse to stoke the flames of passion,
Only empty thoughts of what used to be; Grey on grey struggling to come together.
What scares me most is not knowing what comes next after summer ends in fall.