It's these dreary Autumn days
Where life is so beautiful
because the leaves remaining
are so vibrant and bright

Against the grey sky
and you can watch a cigarette
burn itself to death
offering it's slowly curling smoke

As a sacrifice
to the crisp air
to the crisp air

I wonder where the warm goes
while you sit so coldly in layers
even now as the sun strains
to break through the clouds

The cold will stay
and the wind will blow
Stirring the leaves
and gripping bones
where wearing black won't save

Stirring leaves on the ground
and gripping your bones
so it doesn't matter what color you're wearing

What you have on
black won't save you now
Black won't save you
Black won't save you now

The shadows are longer
now that the time has changed
and the angle of the sun has, too.

Darkness is creeping
and so silent, so chilled
like a trained assassin
A trained assassin.

(2) {original poem and such posted previous to this}

© J. Bernhard

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