09/03/2026
Autumn Wonderings
Autumn years, why so rusty
on the
parched and withered vine?
Will your fears grow musty, musky,
into
a troubled, tortured mind ?
Can your force of sheer willed energy
endure
a test of tests through time?
Will your tears flow slow relentlessly
until
void of joy, they hopelessly die?
Autumn years, why fall chill around me
when I
thirst of warmth of something kind?
~P. S. Colley~
c. September 2026