There is a thinly veiled change pervading the in-coming air
A slight and lazy chill resting in the breast of a gentle breeze
A Dawn pushed out by the arms of a reticent clock
And a Dusk drawn closer by the shrinking season equinox
The green of leaves subsides to a withering yellow
Or an iron-fired, blood-red crimson
This condition evokes memories, recollections to stoke the mind’s eye
And rekindle the submission to a summers slow demise
But this change from the blue to the grey, the warm to the brisk, the bare to the clad
Welcomes sensations anew, fused with curious opportunity and painted with faint expectation
A change is a good as a rest they opine
And seasonal change be the transition to which my disposition is favourably inclined
8th Sept 2021
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