Still, I Dream
It's in the early hours of the morning
when the sun is barely rising,
distant clouds blush in their lavenders and pinks
the seasons are changing, come round to this time of year,
the fall of autumn leaves on a coloring palette flow
from old withered greens to burgundies and reds
spotted yellow on orange pumpkin residue
leftovers from summer dying
giving way to autumn dispensaries of harvest stars and moon
lighting pathways in the ebony night;
as I walk in my own shadow marveling
at how the years have passed so quickly
I find, new dreams formed, hopeful and inspiring
that time remaining is all I have
and my dream is simple
to live it well.
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