Fall. The deceptive beauty of Nature when she begins to reveal the bony skeleton of time; Shedding it's camouflage and laying itself bare to critical eyes.
Life begins to draw in upon itself, back into dormant silence. Furious cries of colors erupt around us, flailing to hold on to the warmth that was. As the sun turns it's back on the fluttering pleas of life, colors burn and tumble, crisply echoing their disappointment.
Promises never met are now receded. Soon to be hidden away amid the gray. Will they remain unbroken. Can they withstand the silence or will only shards of them return when the promise reawakens. The patience of time will answer.
Winter will come with smokescreens of warmth to offer solace. Soft umber glows spiking out against a brittle sky keeping the promise lit.
Time is crystallized, quiet, reflecting itself in holiday glitter. A cascade of thoughts will be mirrored in a chandelier of expectations. Another table laid bare with sterling promises. Will they be kept or packed away like cherished heirlooms.
Melancholia creeps in, its tendrils twisting, tightening. But it will gain no purchase in stone. Soon its futile grasp will be broken by the simple, gentle dawn of a new day.
Such are the thoughts of a woman not ready to give up Summer.
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