Bright colours refuse to come out and play
And leaves on once commanding trees, just fall and rot away
People you might meet seem desperately in a hurry
Things they carry in plastic bags make them work for much longer and live content with worry
The days when summer played out all night long are gone
Now morning as soon as it's started seems to want to be done
Does this planet now tire of us and want this foolish charade to be over?
Should we as a species start to tremble and glance over our shoulder?
Or should we go on, brave dark winters thunder?
Snuggle up with those who make us feel good when we stutter and blunder
And hope we make it through the darkness to gaze at everything with wonder
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