I wander through the woods
on a brisk Autumn evening.
Leaves growing crisp with frost
beneath my heavy boots
and light fading faster than
heat escaping from my head.

I stop.

Only the pines boast any greenery.
The rest of the trees' leaves create
a path that I've yet to disturb
with my trudging trail.
I shove knit-covered hands into my pockets
and release a foggy breath in still air.

I wait.

A slight rustle in pine needles is my clue.
I'll stay until my cheeks redden from the chill
and the sky releases snow as pale as my bones.
I'll wait for when leaves are crushed
yet I'm still as stone.
I'll leave now that I know

I'm not alone.