The crisp air blows clarity
enough to pull up the jacket collar
for the old man strolling at the park.
He sees his past clearer
without the dust of regret
that hot days bring.
Or the frenzy of kaleidoscopic emotions
that simmer in summer months
like a swarm of bees.
His path is lined with elms starkly void of leaves
linear branches reaching out
close enough to embrace.
The Bird's Song 