Friday, November 16, 2007


The afternoon sun is harsh
The strobes of light are diffused and weak
But it is in the order of things
For we need something, anything
To differentiate the winters from the summers

The morning sun is soft and caressing
The afternoon sun only warms the cockles of my heart
The evenings, the sun is nearly non-existent
The days are short and the nights are long
For darkness falls quickly when it is winter

There is a certain laziness in the air
As old, stiff leaves separate from their roots
In a dazzling rainfall of green and brown
Nostalgia, served in large cups
With time and the warmth of a hearth

There is a certain nip in the air
The cold leaves no longer flutter
Out come gloves and mittens
Wear those hats and caps
Wrap the scarves and mufflers
Drink your hot cocoa by the fire
Put your feet up
It's winter time

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