Faces and names and places

and roads between them and

tasks assigned by them and

winter shall take hold in

sudden and violent fashion,

revolution!

Down with the autumnal, fall skull,

then again and again

until the sun eats us.

There is beauty in the first snow

fallen lightly on crackled orange leaves,

and I can bear the weight of this time,

but the changing of the seasons is more difficult now,

and each year passes too quickly.

I am young yet

and intend to enjoy such time as I have it,

but it is no longer impossible to imagine

the realities of age,

as so reflected in so many whom I love.

It is not by my terms that the clock spins,

nor should I question the authority of human evolution;

but I should like to stay strong forever,

and quick-witted forever,

and if my time is to come,

I should like to not whither into a casket broken and frail,

but should like to burst from this world in

grandeur, colors and music and chaos,

supernova against the grain of existence

to embrace the

omphalos.