I look outside into
a melancholy autumn mood.
The garbage is being cleared.
But the hearts and lungs are eroded.
’Let it be’ they say.
It is just the way it is.
No hugs or kisses.
Just surrender to your loneliness.
And listen to the birds warble.
But I hear the magpies
calling out the streets.
Empty of sadness and
pointless screeching.
And the sun washes the back of life.
I’m on a journey that questions
this autumn mood and falling glitter.
A journey that is not silent
and ends in another place,
in another time.
A Wandering Poet 