Waiting for Winter

This is the perfect time to contemplate
A void, to mark an end. The weather's
Gotten cool. It's rained. The leaves
Are dropping from the trees to turn
To brown mush on the ground.
The murky daylight hours are
Diminished. Darkness lingers on,
And, in the gloom, inside, upon a
Chair, or standing outside on the
Mush to smoke another cigarette,
I mark an end. I contemplate the
Void it's left. It's autumn now,
And, all-too gently, everything is
Dying. There is nothing I can do.
I'll sleep until the winter comes.
Then, forced to face its savagery,
I'll have to rise to fight to live, marking
A beginning, not an end.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 62 times
Written on 2015-10-24 at 14:05

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