As the last throws of this Autumn Night draw to a close,I reflect,
With what I did,I did my best,with what I omitted,it wasn’t to be a pest.
Now that this day closes its doors,to scores of voices,melodies,and drums,
My quest for closure ,my yearning for peace incased inside this Yoke of dreams.
Why if I ever thought I might do this,of achieve that,boy I should have factored in this one imperative,
When made of dust,when puny as I am,the only recourse is humility,is acceptance of my mortality.
So on this Autumn night,so soon before the “Witching hour”,my pulse starts to slow,and my energy dissipates,
Why I,like the tired soul that I am,hopes that it was enough,it was sufficient,it is “my humanity”
Nite nite,you Autumn night!