October Shift

I can no longer deny the end of summer

as October delivers a chameleon chill;

can no longer cling on to its memory,

whilst an emerald palette shifts towards amber

I watch as dawn's misty chimneys rise to hang in the valley like ghosts,

and fern turns crisp

There's no looking back

as nature reimagines the world;

persuading me of a different perfection

that exists without temperate warmth

Instead, I look forward to the glassy crunch of frost beneath my feet

Of icy dragon breath

And the glowing embers of the hearth