Autumn chills
Wednesday Morning The cold air piercing my lungs The copper-coloured leaves, As kamikaze pilots, Plummer into the green sea.
The moon, Why are you out? You come without warning To watch over us Here one minute, gone in another.
The iced autumn winds Prickling, Tingling at my bare limbs Asserting its presence.
The sunlight tickling, Teasing, The still green soldiers On this Wednesday morning.