Condition of Anonymity

~ the arms of nature un-grow, as leaves upon leaves depart the blossoming trees and flow, to the tarmac floor they reach, where the brisk air gives them a blow, ~ the air feels cold, the birds fold, for they too depart for the season, for cold = sadness, that is the reason, ​ ~ time for a jacket, a coat but most certainly not a floral frock, as the door behind me is shut with a lock. set up is the alarm, for a peace of mind ~ calm. ~ my fingers freeze, in the mid winter breeze, ahh... I seem to have lost ‘my keys’, how can i now possibly pay the never-ending list of fees?

​ 15/10/2020