Open hands grasp to catch the gold,
the last fleeting glimpse of autumn,
yet it rushes
through my fingers
before my hand can snap closed.
Breathing in a last breath
wishing to hold it forever and ever.
Hoping that the scent of apples
will cling to my senses.
Chilly winter lies waiting
among the baring limbs
and I see glimpses
of the coming cold .
Spring will not wait forever,
but winter seems so long.
Can the ice castles last forever?
When will the frosty covering go? |