somber seasonal poetry
The summer isn't even done
But I feel fall within my lungs
That sudden chill that no coat keeps away
With it comes those somber days
Anniversaries of when we laid
Our hopes to rest in unmarked dirt beneath the shade
It would get better, I was told
But as I lose what I cannot hold
I feel that 'bitter' was the word they meant to say
Despite the color of the leaves
That will descend, touched by the breeze
I find my autumns always fallen into grey