Winds of Chance
Ah, my cunning October, you month of change and chance. You deliver me birthdays and death nights, hail me on windswept moors and lure me with tropical gales. Under your widespread wings, I taste blood reds and hear the sound of cobalt blue. You revel in testing my mettle, unevenly weighting my Libra scales. You love to tip me off balance – see if I will catch the fall. But in the slant of sunset, eye on the wild – I go against the wind. Read More »