Autumn winds blow through my mind and scatter all the leaves of this and that which make a life and memory. With rake of wiser times I gather into piles to burn and those to use as mulch to turn into the soil and feed those things I still can grow.
But sadder comes the wind that brings the snows and freezes into stillness all it touches.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
Oh, so wistful and poignant. Try to stay warm, don’t freeze into stillness, or worse yet, silence.
Not to worry, with all the teeth chattering, words of poetic influence will always sneak out. Sort of like playing jump rope of the mouth.