Early October

And I should follow advice but I will not listen.

The troubled night repairs the soul.

Winds rise and fall as the leaves depart.

Yellow, gold, brown and grey, Pages of my heart.

Uneasy silence I avoid, filled with birdsong.

Chaos, clutter in disarray where I belong

Blinded by tears as rain falls intermittently

A garment of grey cloud lifts upward

Laughter and song on the radio

Curled smoke spirals into the thin air