The Seasons Change Was A Conduit.
Fall.
The air is cooler, or at least it is beginning to be.
The days are shorter, or at least they feel like they are.
The nights whisper memories into my ears, however unwanted or unwelcome.
I feel as though I make this post every year without thinking about it.
However, I am conscious that it is an annual event.
Because the seasons change is abrupt and apparent.
I can feel it while I breath, while I dream.
Perhaps this will be my reminder of the past as each season welcomes the next.
Punching its time card as they pass each other with a small overlap.
Memories are evoked by the smallest things.
Some good, some bad, some rather left to the stars.
It's a strange life, we live in.
One that I won't even begin to try understand.
The air is cooler, or at least it is beginning to be.
The days are shorter, or at least they feel like they are.
The nights whisper memories into my ears, however unwanted or unwelcome.
I feel as though I make this post every year without thinking about it.
However, I am conscious that it is an annual event.
Because the seasons change is abrupt and apparent.
I can feel it while I breath, while I dream.
Perhaps this will be my reminder of the past as each season welcomes the next.
Punching its time card as they pass each other with a small overlap.
Memories are evoked by the smallest things.
Some good, some bad, some rather left to the stars.
It's a strange life, we live in.
One that I won't even begin to try understand.