it has begun
process of dread, that which I fear
but knowing full well it only was due
there goes my joy
seems to pass so quickly each year
all spirit sapped when sweet summer is through

ever the trees have too soon made to shiver
thus shaking away their dried leaves of brown
abscission has won out and cast off their lot
to waft lazily in search of the ground

even the heavens frown down upon me
threaten in an angry boorish grey
chilling winds swirl in and around me
boding night of what surely was day

now the wicked cold has fast set in
my very soul's turned bleak from sadness
begins the yearn...for spring to begin
once again save me from this madness