The gray skies grow ever darker. Gusts of wind skitter dehydrated leaves across the stained sidewalk, their sharp edges scraping loudly in defiance of their fate. It is their last act of independence before slowly disintegrating into oblivion, never to be remembered.
Debris surrounds the leaves – bits of twigs, crushed acorns, stray pine needles all make an ever-changing obstacle course for the litany of ants cascading out of the crevices in pursuit of their next meal.
Change is no longer in the air, something that can only be sensed. No, change has abruptly occurred, without remorse or request. How can one know change is imminent – necessary, even – yet still be surprised and saddened by its sudden presence?
Yet this current reality, too, will eventually fade. Blackness will settle, its duration extended, until one day, again with little warning, the light returns.
The change is radical, beautiful and exhilarating. Life returns, renewal takes place. It is the turning point.
October 11, 2020
I do not claim to be a poet, nor do I consider myself a good one, but I have found that when trying to write descriptively and succinctly, poetry tends to emerge.
As I begin to add more of my personal writing to the blog, you’ll see several of my amateur attempts at poetry. It is my hope that even though they may lack proper form or significant substance that they nevertheless convey my emotions and thoughts in a manner that enables you, dear reader, to relate in some way or ponder something in a new light.
My goal is to grow as an author and part of that process is being willing to try new things and share my work with the world.
Thank you for reading this and I welcome your feedback in the comments!
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