The impending winter comes
With it comes the frigid cold
But autumn's rains hang on
Amidst the flurries of snow
On a Sunday that is melancholy
Sun warmed in a cloak of cloud
Its brilliance hidden beneath
Biting cold makes bones ache
None venture unless obliged
They hold up in their home
Distracted by shining screens
The glow of diversions medial
N'er to see the sky, nor earth
But from behind glass panes
The beasts cower in their dens
All are taken ill with cabin fever