LOW PRESSURE SYSTEM
Time passes like the winds of the lunar year,
an atmospheric pressure system comes near,
remaining woeful at sea level-down here,
yet winds diverge in the upper troposphere,
leaving embedded shortwave troughs unclear.
Autumn creeps towards its starting minutes,
the blanketed sunshine now scarcely emits.
Leaves change intrinsically ebbing to steer,
dark gloomy gristled drinking a Heineken beer,
indisposed amid the themed bar Belvedere,
eyes glazed and shine of anthocyanins severe,
crooked teeth which carotenoids interfere.
Silence broken by the drone of crickets,
“Yo- can you just gimme your digits?”