The approach of rain watched through spotted and cracked glass, I consider the cloud ferried darkness ahead. My preferential tendency for cheerful reclusive introversions revels in this time of year. While school playgrounds prepare themselves for the quiet of summer to become the cacophony of fall, I consider the colours of crisp air and the delight of no longer needing an excuse to stay in. I imagine the crackle of long night firelight musings, the soft promise of snow under stars too distant to share warmth, but bright enough to inspire a kind of poetry that carries it’s own music.
Creativity is the power to connect the seemingly unconnected. -William Plomer
About the Author: Trish
Trish is an unrepentantly weird girl, who very much likes to write and fix things. Her preference is to be barefoot and laughing, given the option.
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