quiet quiet quiet

soft falling of colors

brown, red, gold

falling

landing gently on the sidewalks

sleeping in the ditches in front yards

bonfires

boots

blankets

i sound like a facebook post

but it’s true

bonfires

boots

blankets

the wind is whipping

hair

colors

clothes

everyone is bundled up

as an attempt to keep It out

It, is abrasive

incapable of mercy

some try to run

they can’t get away from It

it’s 6pm here

dark and lonely

cold and wet

It won’t leave us It

seeps in from the Outside

there’s no escape

only to hope

that spring

is an early bird