A restless autumn atmosphere
where waiting yokes the edgy air,
austere, the trees stand staunch and grim
while silence shrieks a warning hymn.
The reined-in tempest, hushed but shrill
will tense expectant minds until
they’re filled with static echoes. Mourn
with pagan wails. Enter storm.
The keening cry of wind that seeks
bleak savagery as fury peaks,
then weakens as the driving rain
soon drowns all in a drummed refrain.
So summer’s dirge will usher in
the alter ego, bitter twin.