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within me is the cold

within me is the cold - Setting Sun Retirement Home*
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It is autumn; not without
But within me is the cold.
Youth and spring are all about;
It is I that have grown old.

Birds are darting through the air,
Singing, building without rest;
Life is stirring everywhere,
Save within my lonely breast.

There is silence: the dead leaves
Fall and rustle and are still;
Beats no flail upon the sheaves,
Comes no murmur from the mill.

"Autumn Within"
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Photograph taken at Setting Sun Retirement Home (a pseudonym) by Matthew Christopher of Abandoned America.

Also in: Setting Sun Retirement Home*

when it all comes caving in
the void within
as the evening twilight fades away
every tatter in its mortal dress
in the eye of the tornado