The Season of Change
Drawing the year
To a cosy, bittersweet end.
Leaves fall, clothing pavements
In a crispy blanket
Of warm reds, yellows and browns.
The Northern wind calls,
Drowning out the echo of summer,
Carrying the promise of cold weather
Through the city streets.
Streams weakly through glass windows,
Pleasant to feel upon your back
But never quite warm enough
Against the bite of Scottish air.
Pumpkins, fireworks and Christmas trees
Are competing for attention in shop windows,
Like festive mascots
Begging to be bought.
The season of change.
Comfort, closeness and fireside warmth.
What will it bring?