I only noticed it today.
It snuck up on me,
Ice breath on my nape
Made me shudder in my fleece.
My ears were deaf
To the crunching neath my feet.
The scene outside my fish bowl
Now a Battenberg of brown and green:
Bricks and trees against emerald grass,
With a smattering of fallen leaves.

I’d been so engrossed:
An intentional whirlwind
Pushing past all in my path.
The chill is appropriate.
The air lacks all its summer warmth.
And it’s hard. It bites at my fingertips
Like you do. Did.
No tense fits.