1-XI

With a slight chill
the wind picked up.
Unexpectedly,
darker clouds filled the sky.
A few drops of rain fell.
The wind picked up some more
sending all the clouds away.
The sky returned to its deep blue.
The sun warmed my soul once more,
erasing its autumn melancholy.

Kenza.

Wind, clouds, the moon

Wind, clouds, the moon.
They illicit words of love,
feelings of longing and sadness,
memories of broken hearts.
Yes.
The wind howls into the night.
The moon disappears behind shifting clouds.
Clouds are carried to unknown destinations.
This is autumn.
To me, however,
they are
wind, clouds, the moon.
Beauty standing as is —
free of emotions except for
the joy of the written word.

Kenza.