Poem: Contradictory Weather

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The first of November
the morning is already
colorless and grey


It's like flipping a switch
suddenly winter has already
gained a foothold.


There is one thing
that shatters the illusion
it's still seventy degrees


Hardly crisp brisk weather
don't need the sweaters
or the heavy jackets yet.


A month and a half
until Christmas chimes in
but the weather is like spring.


I stand on the porch
the winds are picking up
but it hardly feels like autumn.


It's contradictory
makes me wonder
how the world is changing.

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