Mean Old Winter
Fair autumn days are
slipping past.
Old winter’s chasing on its heels.
Who’s ready for what winter deals?
Impossible for fall to last.
Mean winter’s coming way too fast.
At gloominess, my poor mind reels.
Fair autumn days are slipping past.
Old winter’s chasing on its heels.
Bare branches stark in skies like glass.
Sheet ice on roads aims, maims, and kills.
I freeze, at least, that’s how it feels.
As days go by, gray snow’s amassed.
Fair autumn days are slipping past.
No comments:
Post a Comment