Until This Newly Found Joy

Autumn has dressed up in pretty auburn by pulling all the lifeless leaves off the dormant, cold trees; and every bird, that once thrilled everyone's heart, has glanced upon this scenery and sadly gone south, and I like them...I dream of a spring in green! Under these swift feet the dry leaves of November crack, and my path feels hard and is visible no more; here and there, I trip on a hidden stone which slows me down as a reminder of the winter's whack... when heavy snowfalls and violent storms will batter this paradise, but who else will call upon imagination and fantasize? Days and months I'll check off my calendar: December with its first snowflakes and ice... gleaming on my soft and distant meadow; January covering everything with soft snow, February with its constant gelid skies, and March bringing back the songbirds to my door! Unmerciful winter, don't let this aloneness curb my freedom, once in a while entice it with the spurious presence of sunshine... not disobliging my wishes and turning me into a butterfly: to revive a vision of the of bluest skies where clouds roam; by a riverside I will lay in comfort...glazing its flow, until this newly found joy will end any thought of sorrow! Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci