The Changing of Seasons
I fear the winds that are wailing outside as I am writing this poetry.
The seasons are changing: a cool autumn breeze,
in between the 10s to 20s Celsius degrees,
has become a wail that rattles all trees
and fills me with unease.
Tomorrow, winter shall come —
the winds announce as they blow through some
of many neighborhoods and cities,
all preparing for the weathers that freeze.
Change comes with turmoil, apparently:
just as the changing of seasons
causes the strongest of currents
in the air that I breathe;
just as the changing of life
that causes the deepest of fears
in the mind that I be.
More Poetry by A.X. Bates