Winter is right at my doors!
Yet my heart sings red and yellow
And oblige to this unfathomable call of fall
May be it’s just the impulse to resonate my feeds
Overrun with maple leaves and pumpkin patches
May be my fancy for peaches or lust for tawny branches
Perhaps my bubbling urge to praise the cession of the trees
That toss their blushing leaves
To wash our way with hue
Could just be a whim**sigh**
May be they say,
To let fall our fallacies…
To shed off the duff and pep up, anew as dew!
To efface the haze and spring ablaze !
There he is! at the crux…
Taking pride at his freedom of choice
Poor fella, he does not discern his courses are pent
He knows not of ones beyond his purview
There he is! on the fence…
Contemplating his pick
Left to mull over, which door to open after the next
There he is! between the devil and the deep blue sea..
Hoping to get to the Zion
He presumes his doom is the blend of his path
He sees not it’s a pit, a rabbit hole, offering no way back.
There he is! over the moon…
Revering his leeway, glad to take the onus
The choice is his!