bad winter.

I don't know why fall makes me feel so

well, I don't know

awake.

the colors are stronger and the air is colder and it 

moves and pushes and swirls

a rejoicing in the death of all the green things

spinning them in circles, up from the ground

dancing and dragging across asphalt with that sound

the crackling of a fire or

the crashing of the waves.

celebrating, because death is happening all the time

while we're alive and we pretend it's not there

so a little secret part of me

is grateful that someone, something 

is celebrating death, so it's not so scary.

and I wonder, always here I wonder

at this time, I wonder

wrapped in warm things,

did I lose you when I wasn't looking?

they say it was a bad winter

they say it was a lot of ice

they say it and shake their heads when they say it

and it was a bad winter

I was in a bad way, the storms had stopped my movement

it was a bad winter in my head, behind my eyes

it was a miracle I was still alive

it was a bad winter, they said

and during that bad winter

when you fed me, bathed me, stroked my hair

did I use up all your love for me

in that bad winter?

concentrate it into one eternally long season

and dry up the reservoir, empty it out before our time?

it's here again, the just-before time

and the prayers on everyone's silent lips

especially mine

are whispering that they hope, I hope

this winter will be a good winter.