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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
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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
games
in the eye of the tornado