October brings both beauty and dread;
And when it first arrives, it feels
Like something has already been lost.
Before all its radiant spectra have fluttered free
Of their brittle, twiggy hosts,
And abandoned them to waver naked
In the chilling promise of runny noses and flu shots,
It's always the same, like a looming shroud.
It feels ominous to me; it always has.
I know that feeling Bert, you've penned it well here. It is nearly ineffable, but the way you put it lends me to realize others feel it also. Good write.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautifully descriptive write.