Written for writer's cramp, but definitely from the heart.
thief of autumn’s
sigh and skip and vibrant buzz,
even fire cracks in your embrace.
At first your cold was cute
My skate blade cut a circle in your center.
I admired your white,
tasted your gale,
as you closed school and store…
week after month after holiday
you held a grudge against the spring;
grasping groundhog round the shadow of his
throat, you’ve lost your
You need anger management therapy,
a little sun,
some time down south.
Winter, I just don’t love you