Hollows

it aches when the wind goes through my bones,

turning a collar up to the unknown,

November’s chilly winds set mournful tones,

I don’t know what will be from fall’s seeds sown.

~

Is the sun behind those grey clouds?

where is that radiant light I knew.

needing comfort like scent of Irish stew

I don’t fit any more in these crowds.

~

My foot fall crunches leaves under me

It will be a long, hard season

As I set sail for an icy sea

it aches the heart without reason

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s