Wednesday, 25 January 2012

Autumn

The ground smells of autumn,
my skin prickles
like it's raining pins and needles,
having grown too heavy
for the clouds to carry,
thrown overboard
like sandbags from a balloon.

I wonder if the clouds
would otherwise fall to earth.

When the wind stands my hairs on end,
I imagine we could fasten together,
strong as Velcro.

And you remind me
that above the gloomy sky,
the sun is shining brightly as ever.

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