Seasons
The Seasons
Autumn avenue.
The wind blows leaves in my face.
Help! I cannot see!
The winter cold bites.
Harsh, searing the skin. It burns!
Splat! My face falls off.
Bloody daffodils,
custard yellow plague, it hides…
TWAT! Rake in my face.
Hot sun marred by rain
Beetroot red meets ghostly white
ARRGH! Burnt flaking skin.
