Autumn (continued)
11.
Okay, I'm up, I'm up;
rising
not quite singing
but I'm up
and everything feels different
although I'm not sure why
exactly
but it's different
uncomfortable perhaps
oppressive maybe
and the bed I just left sings a siren's song
beckoning
welcoming
sheltering
and for a moment I...
but instead I turn away
and when I open the door
just to see
the wind bites my cheek
the thinnest blanket of icy cobweb snow is sparkling
the rooster is sleeping in
and I know the season has made it's crossing over
has snapped
and there is only forward motion now
but I'm up, I'm up
to greet it.
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