The leaves fall..
letting go of the temporary embrace of age old trees..
and with it comes a tsunami of golden waves..
poured in shiny large mugs and jars..
This Festival of Futile Attempts ..
to forget what’s mundane..what’s ordinary..
for couple of weeks only if not forever..
makes people drown their yesterdays and today in rubble of wooden drums carrying fluids that numb their restless souls, minds however briefly..
And so..
the time goes on like the true enemy that it has always been..
making the trees go naked, open to gusts of cold cruel wind..
and numb minds go back to awareness..
waking up with a hangover..
that makes reality sharper and edgier..
on cold winter nights’