Howling like a distant train above the sky,
Through naked branches the cruel wind must fly.
It hurls crisp leaves into the deepest black,
Striking cold sidewalk with clickety clack.
A pack of dogs dancing on their long claws,
Clickety clack when the bitter wind pause.
Damp leaves matted layers against the stone wall,
A wet dog cower’ng at the close of fall.
Shadows among dark clouds and wind raging
Growling gale warns of winter approaching.
Seeker of Wisdom 