A Morning Like October Poem by moon batchelder

a morning like october in the middle of july.
the fog lay thickly in the valley
threatening the sky.
the smell of winter lingered
in the air,
a vague awareness;
an ominous reminder of how quickly
summer passes.

a shock of hair gone silver in the middle of her years
a band of gold around her finger.
jewels in every tear.
their years together hovered
there above
her lover's corpse, as if
a vivid demonstration of
anticipated losses.

the mist lost it's insistance toward the middle of the day.
the blazing summer warmth returning
burning off despair.
she saw the paradigm of change
revealed;
a vagrant healing.
insensitive example of how swiftly
sorrow passes.