With all fancy hope of spring
at last returning, you'd think

happy thoughts of daffodils,
iris, would fill to the brink

and overflow. And yet loss,
now, is the cause of season
change escaping much notice.
Loss, and choice, without reason.

Late I noticed October's
charm, forever embedded
in memory, twisting round
my heart, once found, not wedded.

This is for Pirate Grace, in response to her last form challenge for the Real Toads. (Boo.)