it's as nippy as a
Japanese gymnast outside
and I struggle to hide
my disappointment from
anyone watching

autumnal leaves levitate
on puffs of charcoal cold
and I know it won't be
long before the radioactive
compost of winters armor
tests my melatonin mind
with having to wear a
double pair of socks
during the approaching equinox

the front of it's frigid face
pressurizing the nerves and
blackmailing my someday ability
to hear those faraway vocals
of a narcissistic spring

Written by Sara Fielder © Oct 2016