Change Poem by Trevor Seery

The Moon stares at me from a lofty height,
Wind cuts through the trees,
a distressing sight,

Pale light on pale skin,
Clouds roll by as if running a race,
Shaded in a glow is a familiar face,
Early morn presents a storm,
Eye is in the middle,
Presumptuous and predictable as can be,
Female form blocks the moon,
She will be back… be back soon.

Confined in spaces, spaces called rooms,
I can remember days when there were no fools,
No speech, no sight, no hearing at all,
Then one day it began to fall,
Leaves theyre brown, yellow and red,
Its all becoming clear forever in my head.

When they touched the ground and found a home,
They were safe now never alone,
The circle begins for another time,
A season, a reason brought about by a chime…