The scent of leaves is trailing away

Carried past my open arms in a cool, lagging wind

The sunlight, broken through the skeleton trees' fingers

Reflects a chill silence

Foreboding

Unwelcome to my eager longing

I've grown weary of the cold

In so many ways

It beats down with unbearable tension

Drawing long-hidden sighs

Relinking the steel-chained fence of anxiety

Though it blows thick through my hair

It seems cognizant of the icy bearings of its touch

So alien from the warming glow of its summer self

I would be repulsed,

But this breeze leaves me decrepit

And lost in thought

I tuck the coat over my chest

Wondering how I will grow accustomed

To the intimate, bipolar touch

Of my wintry companion