A ballard-style poem about the death of summer and the onset of winter. I'm not a fan of this time of year. So I used that feeling to write this poem.
When the birds started flying south,
And the dark ate daylight,
When we all feel down in the mouth,
Then we feel winters blight.
Long gone are the warm summer nights,
And gone are the long days,
Summer died with all its delights,
There’s just a murky haze.
Now we have months of wind and rain,
Freezing air and black ice,
And thoughts of Christmas to add pain,
Fuck the cold, it’s not nice.
We’ll go to work in the pitch dark,
And wait while the day shrinks,
There’s no lunchtime walk in the park,
We just grasp our warm drinks.
So, it’s cold, dark and really grim,
There’s not much joy and cheer,
Exercise is best in the gym,
It’s too cold to drink beer.
So while we all mourn summer’s death,
And winter laughs at us,
With weather that shows us our breath,
It’ll die too, that’s a plus.
Some look forward to Christmas cheer,
With it’s tinsel and lights,
Others just hope for the new year,
When days stop being nights.