Hibernation Of The Self

Leaves transform: red, yellow and orange.
Winds become crisp with the echoes of
crunching leaves underfoot.
Looking back over my shoulder as
I glance back to days gone by.
Observing my past hopes and dreams…
some fulfilled others lay scattered among the fallen leaves.


The gentle sunlight warming my skin
as the season comes to a silent closure.
Days become fleeting as the darkness
quietly plunders and steals from the day.


I pull in to shelter and protect
feeling the cold air scorching my exposed skin.
Pulling in to become tiny and small as to hide.


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