Autumnal blue’s the color over me
at noon today, as if a cup of night
were softened with a swirl of foggy white,
and all the frosted oxygen is free.
October orange is the imagery
projected through my eyelids by the light
of afternoon. I watch with inner sight
the dappled colors of a maple tree.

Inhaling autumn as I troll today,
I recognize the colors of goodbye.
I shoulder off a bold encroacher’s touch
so easily, but work to shake away
support I’ve smoked for years. With grief I sigh
to put aside a vice I’ve liked so much.

This entry was posted in Behavior Modification, Poetry, Weather. Bookmark the permalink.

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