There is a frigid
damp wind
pushing
at my front door
howling,
testing like
it had to even
a score because
autumn
dared to linger.
Every nook,
every cranny
is stressed like
a young boy
doing his best to
blow air
into a crumpled
paper bag but
I do not worry
because I know that
as winter
begins to show I
can find solace
in the fire’s
warm embrace.








~Pamela





22 old applause
