strangely
based on living
having to forget things
looking at another layer
dreaming
turning
autumn to winter
what was
before it was
inner searching
turning old leaved
familiar musty smell
rotting thoughts
no comfort
when life's autumn
turns it's seasons
towards the winter
yet
never was there such a day
only a breath away
edging towards
glorious inevitability
scything of mellow
meadowed souls
always
we begin
again
