autumnal harbinger

one feels the wind blowing and
one knows autumn is near
because the wind
feels different, strange
the wind goes restless like a child
a little insolent, a little sullen
a little confused and
as well a little sad
it goes blowing whistles
of melancholy

the sun shines tired like
the sky sobs very often
sometimes towards the sunset
the light of the day lessens
in shades of red, pink, orange
yellow like flames of fire
fighting against the night
but darkness overcomes and
covers everything

one feels the wind blowing and
one knows autumn is near
because the wind blows leaving
a cold of nostalgia in our
hands and one reckons
it is barely September
the summer is not over yet
but impatient autumn
arrives for some
with anticipation

our appearance wilts
our hair
shows grey gleams
the lines of our face
are noticeably
more accentuated
our skin loses moisture
our steps are more paused
one longs more often
for the days of the past
making our breathing
deeper when we sigh

one knows autumn is near
because that cold of nostalgia
doesn’t go away with rubbing
our hands
it goes through our skin
penetrating to the marrow
of our bones
autumn is felt in our body
it is September
but for some, without warnings
autumn arrives with anticipation
collecting outstanding debts and
throwing on our backs
the heavy sack of our age