October the month of pumpkins and candy corn, Witches,
black cats, black hats and broom sticks
“I am the granddaughter of the Witches you could not burn”
A sentiment held close to my heart even when burdened
The scent of allspice and clove, wishful thinking
Permeate, intoxicate and spin off earthly desires
Mindset, hibernation; hoping spring is a rebirth
new beginnings, fingers crossed and such;
“And all the lives we ever lived and all the lives to be
are full of trees and changing leaves…” Virginia Woolf
Fall when spirits are restless and ghosts fly high;
as if challenging those left behind
Questioning every leaf that has turned,
every commonality that begins to slip; how apropos!
Morning sun comes up too slow and the ground
feels less than solid; my bones ache
Maybe the light of a new day will shine on all the things
that suddenly don’t feel right, that sense of being off balance;
when connections begin to deviate; white noise and static
Now I am sleepless in my questions and insecurities
Sleepless in my self-protective mind bounce

And all the naysayers tip their hat in recognition
of how quickly possibility can fall to the way-side

©2020 TrilbyYates