Archive
09/20/10 - (3)
Fall Casts Its Cold Spell
Never have I been one to let anything get under my skin And linger, fester, cause my spirit to brood, Bring me down, below the doldrums' low-water mark, Not for very long, anyway, More than a few evanescent seconds of useless fretting.
It's not in my nature to offer nature the upper hand, By giving her the satisfaction of leaving me cabinbound. And yet, this slashing blast of arctic air, Which looks as if it intends to last through tomorrow, Just might keep me in retreat, present me with defeat,
Unless, that is, I tell the elements I'm not afraid, Get off my duff, bundle up, and take to the woods, To explore the relationship between shadows and shapes, In hope of learning, from their patterns, how I might survive When the cold takes hold, casts its spell over my soul.
09/20/10 - (3)
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