This winter, I look forward like I hadn’t ever before.
Sweet Autumn, forgive me this; an urgency has arisen.
The packed space - just too hot to bear; and the lethargy drives me nuts.
Is it me? I ask myself; and the answer’s far out of reach.
Morning breaks with rays of hope; yet when it’s time, I dread it so.
Not Autumn, surely you’ve been kind; as always and now, but it’s hot.
Terribly so I confess; seasons no bar, except winter.
The long days, the longer months, and the short nights my only time.How eerie! Strangers’ eyes on me, as I talk about them and me.