Time Out for Poetry #6

The Gathering Gloom
Do not disturb; on annual meditation

Photo taken by the author at Crow Nest Park in Yorkshire, England

The ghosts of gloom are gathering
Crawling, advancing, degree by degree
Soon, down 10° here and there
Soon, down 20° there and here.

Look up at the sky
Turning grayer and grayer
No sun peeping through
No winks of happy blues.

Look at the ground
Getting thicker and thicker
With golds and reds and –
Browns crinkling as you step.

Look at the balding trees
Exposing their skeletal limbs
But while others are leafless
Some have berries for the birds.

Look at rockeries and gardens
Stripped of summer beddings
Struck bald of blooms and buds
No scent wafting for tired bods.

Look at the gathering gloom
A way of hibernating, resting
Lying torpid, rallying strength
Nature on its annual meditation.

The ghosts of gloom are coming our way
No need to weep, no need to flinch
Look forward to welcoming snowflakes
Think chilly thoughts, winter is coming.


First published on Medium

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