Slow….

I am slow these days,
Blood turning viscous each day,
And the skin to the color yellow,
The breath falls short as the leaves turn red,
Sky speaks stories of the night,
I turn to the mirror these days,
When the light creeps out my front window,
Scaring away the little eccentricities my consciousness carries with her each day,
And I hold onto my fears,
The world trembles and jiggles the mind,
I am slow these days,
Maybe I ran too fast….