and it’s autumn.

I need to retain
some sort of sanity

since sleep comes so infrequently
and dreams less so,
my mind is foggy and tired
of focusing.

Fall should be foggy–
in a good way–

a chilly leaves-stuck-to-the-road kind of way,
a let’s-go-trick-or-treating-in-the-dark kind of way,
a hold-my-cold-hand-in-yours kind of way.

Hoodies and cider,
pumpkins and football,
fleece blankets and dusty air.

Let’s settle in
for a good one.

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Tags: autumn, fall, Poetry