Blue-grey, swiped with white, 

Streaked with yellow, orange blurs,

Twist and fall through space -

Trees forget their love for summer,

Their golden days, their youth,

And throw their decadence to the swirling wind.

Hat-wool tickles and cold bites sharp

On unprotected skin, pink-blue in the air.

If it is this easy to forget, why don't we all

Shake off our memories when cold comes,

To grow new again in spring? 

I would shake you off, strip myself of my yellow, orange hurt,

and clothe myself in green, 

Find forgetfulness in falling wishes.