I feel it in the air
more than Fall's biting breeze of
Winter's threat of falling temps.
The reality of passing time,
more than just a new president
of shifting politicals winds
Maybe it's me who sees differently;
less before than behind of what is gone
what's left yet to be done?
The irons in the fire are ripe
soon the picking will begin anew
and some may recall when I'm gone.