Change is all around, in the town, city and land,
Shall I too bury my head like the ostrich in the sand?
Or shall I rise from the ashes
like the phoenix fresh and new?
Should I stay? Should I go?
I really, really just don’t know.
The dark cloak of winter will soon be here,
Sweet Autumn, your leaves are like lovers’ tears,
Dropping, decaying then disappearing away,
Fertilising the earth for yet another day.
Autumn, a time for gathering and storing to keep,
As the hedgehog roles up for his winter’s sleep,
We mortals weaken with creaky old bones,
Some retiring to nursing homes.
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