Twirl Point
New month, new leaf.
Hinge of the year,
turning point.
Clouds gather, promise,
pass on.
Summer’s gaudy paint fades.
Winds stir the dust.
Memories swirl in the fading light.
New month, new leaf.
One door opens, down the hall,
the soft click as another closes.
Fitful gusts gather the curtains,
then lets them fall,
Shadows dance,
a whisper rustles.
New month, loose leaf,
wind caught, spinning.
