The summer days are gone.
They burnt away in the autumn bloom,
Leaving behind little but dead trees
As solemn reminders of what had already been and gone.
Now, the winter wind is here to scratch at my bones
Through blankets and comfort,
Like an old itch that can’t quite work it’s way out of my skin.
Driven here by banshee winds that tore
The dying leaves from the trees while the evergreens
Just laughed and whispered,
While the three pm setting sun shatters off of high rises,
Lancing out in spears of light to burst my watery eyes
As the favourite song in my phone blares into my ears.
And it goes,
“The lights of Birmingham are wet and blur in front of me.”
And as the sun winks out, the sky burns an amber red,
Trying to recapture that autumn burst if crimson, blushing, Embarrassed at the day’s premature ending.
I stop and think of everything that’s already been and gone.
I think of Lee, who died before leavings his teens.
I think of classmates from primary school
Who no matter how hard I try it just can’t picture their faces anymore
And it tears me apart, like
The number of friends who’ve said or waved “goodbye”
And no matter how many times I’ve heard that word,
I’m still trying to value the “good” over the “bye”
But by now it’s more like a given than a revelation.
Now I’m done with letting this get to me
So I close my eyes and say to myself, “I’m not sad anymore.”
I’m not, because I reuse to be. I refuse to let the winter blues fall from of my eyes,
I refuse to see the dead trees as reminders of what has already been
And I still know that the setting sun is a reminder that endings can be beautiful.
I refuse to let the word “goodbye” defeat me
And instead insist that rather than something ending,
It gives the chance for something new to begin
Because even though I’m surrounded by dead trees
I can still see the evergreens.
jakeanthonyscott 