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