…impermanent as existence

Trees are weeping tears of gold
the sky painted in shades of grey
and cold wind is creeping in
circling the edges of daylight

birds call in mournful tones
preparing to fly in search of the sun
leaving behind their empty nests
and their ever silent branches

the last flowers are withering
in the first dusting of frost
their bright petals fading
into distant memory

I stand here in the emptiness
watching the seasons’ lament
as she sheds her golden cloak
for a barren winter gown

and now, just as you leave
the gentle breeze goes too
into the fading night
like the last dying leaf
impermanent as existence
© Ann Bagnall