Foot Falls (Hold My Hand)
Inspired by:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rtxA-b67srwhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdGta4R0Xdw
A little poem (finally).
Leaves falling down. Brown leaves, pale green leaves, purple leaves. The wind picks up.
Lakes start freezing. The waters grow cold. Ice is forming.
Rain is transforming into snow flakes. A slow transition. The days grow bleak.
Warmth leaves the air, but the fireplace is warm.
Birds migrate. Tourists leave. People leave.
All there's left are a few people. A few people. Some animals. The cold.
But it's still nice. There is fire. There is light.
However.
It does get lonely.
The moon is there, but only because it has to be there. Other wise, the land would be dark.
Wolves howl to it. They're not alone. They have other wolves to be with.
Even if they shun the lone wolf. At least that lone wolf got to be with others for a moment.
At times, there are dark nights. Clouds cover the moon. The wind howls, because winter can get lonely.
Things cower and hide. But they have warmth. It isn't quite the best place to be, but it's something.
The wind dies down. The moon is back. The wolf is thankful. Not because it survived, but because the moon is back. Company to talk to, to howl to.
Winter has come, but it's not as bad as I thought.