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Click hereI am
The beginning of Autumn.
My leaves
Are just starting to turn,
Their fall
Still some way distant,
The breath
Of change still faintly warm
Upon my tongue.
I am
The yellowing, golding leaves,
Bright still
With the light of the midday sun,
Warm yet
With its noonday fire.
My change
Is heat and primal passion,
Beautiful and bold.
Copyright 2015
done riff on an old theme, but compare to a more original riff by Dylan Thomas,
"Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know"