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Autumn grows a chill
Scented as if a deep shade of Amber
Autumn grows a chill
Too short a season, this time of transition
Breeding woodsmoke in childrens’ hearts
Wind making teary eyed squints
Cooling the Earth with summers’ permission
Waiting for winter to start
Deep in my throat, like sucking on mints
Parched summer landscape, deep in remission
The pattern of leaves fall apart
This icy wind only hints
A new smell of blue tinted frost
Withering trees as if ill
Autumn grows a chill
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Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha
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