PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Each year october comes and goes

i grow older and older

the fiery wind that blew past me

every year getting bolder and bolder

The Autumn that begins the rain

that lets the leaves fall to the ground

gives the trees pain

and leaves the sky to hum a sound

i hear it perched high in the mist

a sound never heard before

it sweeps me off with bliss

as i understand more

i see october as my child

i see october as my father

but eras go and echoes pass

and october grows less sober.