by Profe Steve
Tiny rill of chilly wetness Raises goose flesh on my skin. Breath billows silent freshness, Scarf tucked warm beneath my chin.
Footsteps barely make a sound Upon the first leaves that died And formed a blanket on the ground. It comes. Unrelenting as the tide.
I search the pale blue sky above, Hope is veiled, no longer guides, No more sing feathered bards of love, Nor yet the hearth fire glow abides.
One green sprig turns to gold Among explosive riot green. Loving arms grow empty, cold, Summer sleekness now unseen.
Busy creature scrours the chaff On sodden soil, his deadline keeps. Suddenly with glee I laugh, Earth dies not, it merely sleeps.
Gold leaves crunch their whispered sighs Fingers curled so soft in mine. Breath unconscious misted rise Befogs my thoughts, the sweetest wine.
Our spirits soar in sunset glow, Amber, russet magic waits Beside the gurgling chilly flow, Lost in gloaming, spirit sates.
Fearless wait the falling snow, Stirred by breaths of frosted breeze, Another now begins his flight, From slumbering branch of towering trees,
With wink and sigh, you fill my arms, Breath so softly mingles sweet, Searing kiss dispels all harms, In unison our hearts now beat.
No fear of death nor autumn chill Will yet our beings fill with dread. Side by side we’ll brave the hill, As hope awaits the spring ahead.