|picture source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/375909900124228469/|
Leaves litter the kitchen floor,
blown in by a wind that’s turned cold
and determined in expressing its control.
Bronze goosebumps are visible on my skin,
my bare limbs feel exposed, naked, to the icy fingers that brush, then grab and pull me their chosen direction.
Leaves snag in my hair that is blowing
with the wind, the cold, the wet, the darkness, that I need.