It feels a little chillier today.
A thick layer of leaves fell last night, dead and brown.
The light's a little different in the afternoon.
Bone grates along bone when I walk.
It has nothing to do with the weather.
But it feels a little chillier today.
A life entered my life. It couldn't stay.
I blinked and it had gone away again.
The light's a little different in the afternoon.
Blood is heavier in the veins.
Heart is working harder, but brittle in my chest.
It feels a little chillier today.
Moon follows moon with irregular regularity.
Cycle follows cycle in an excess of pain.
And in the afternoon, the light's a little different.
Last night the dead leaves fell.
My body creaks itself awake, observing
that it feels a little chillier today.
The light will slant differently this afternoon.
