S.A.D.

I have long related
to the cold death of
Autumn
My organs fall
as the shattered leaves do
and the fantasies
of hanging
like an old vine
from a naked tree branch
never seem to leave
on these days
and the leaders
I have followed
for eternity
have drifted away
like the waters of
a creek
and I am left
directionless
as the pollution
within those plodding
waters