grey drapes its cloak
across sun’s light touch;
wind turns in sharp from colder
climes, cuts through ambiance
with quiet, persistent menace.
all is lost to this darkness,
to this end –
warmth,
colour,
the promise of life
– taken.
and the words of
a thousand conversations
scatter like dead leaves;
gather in corners,
curl, rot… seep
silently into icy ground,
and are gone.
~ 5th October 2011
sandie zand 
wonderfully evocative
Oh, thanks Babs. I was awake very early this morning – still dark, and a bit stormy… more October than our Indian summer has lulled us into believing is constant… so the poem just came, really.(then, ironically, so did the sun – hours later and we're back in Indian summer… but the poem still stands. Just. ;))
Thanks Sandy. I read this loud after an hour playing the reed harmonium. The poem has a lovely rhythm.
this poem is sad, sandie, but beautiful in its sadness. there is the acceptance of things being transitory. as you said, the sun came back a little later, but thanks a lot for that moment of life you have recognized in this poem.
Ashen, Sito… thanks for reading and your kind comments. Yes, sad, but heading into winter is always a little sad I think. In a previous life maybe I was a doormouse and had the worry of whether I'd wake up again in spring to contend with at this time of year..!Log fires are good though. And hot puddings. So winter has its benefits too.
Hi, Sandie,What a powerful poem. You captured the fleeting moments beautifully and with perfect rhythm. While it is sad at the end I felt peace.I'm visiting your blog as part of my Make A Difference Blog Hop – Jackie Buxton recommended you.