October Morning Poem by jan ejsymontt

Bevanda sun she braves a peek
And blows unabashed air kisses on
An Adriatic breeze, a softened smile.
The almost-over October tastes of good,
Arabica aroma of a weekend morning.
My inner time warp clings to now.
Autumn shifts her pace
With discordant sounds of a distant hammer-drill
Ushering in the constant change.
Children noises echo through narrow passages
Amplified by the ancient cluster of homes.
A football blasts off the crumbling wall
Each crack coveting the past,
The sound of nothing stays the same.
I gather the moment and seal her away.