spark memories of rare days in June,
reminding me that the past summer
has hastened away much too soon.
The passing of summer brings longings
that Autumn's crisp air congeals.
Hence cometh the advent of winter,
transforming the green colored hills.
The longings I have won't destroy me.
They steal o're my soul every fall.
Just something that I've learned to live with,
not serious in nature at all.
I'm prone to sit back and ponder,
Yes welcoming natures display.
Preparing myself for the stillness
brought on by a cold winters day.
Years ago I sat down and in a fit of nostalgia, wrote this poem. For years I was plagued with melancholy as fall approached. Since we moved from California to Arizona, that fall sadness has, for the most part, left me. However, this year the same old feelings have, for some unknown reason, crept back into my consciousness. Maybe posting my thoughts in this blog will assuage that little imp that wants to come back and trouble me this time of year.
