Cold Autumn Eve

By: I Am

The frost clings thickly
to the leaves
early on this autumn eve.

I feel the crunch
beneath my feet
of fresh-fell snow
in the street.

Exhale freezes
to my face
enrusting mustache
with tinseled lace.

Brisk the air
that I draw in,
as cold the wind
upon my chin.

I stand agape
at winter nigh,
the cumulus billowing
in the sky.

Foul- the weather,
as foul my mood;
my steps are brisk;
my manner crude.

They mirror the state
of my mind
in sorting falsehoods
left behind.

The night is chill,
--as now you,
and I've been with
someone new.

You have left
what eyes can’t see;
From the start
you’ve injured me.

Yet,
I have learned
a great deal
about discerning
what is real.

Love is,
as I have learned,
too easily given-
too soon spurned.

I think never
will be a day
I am sure
my love will stay.

Nor, I guess,
will ever be
that she will totally trust in me;
but if she passes
the test of time
and mellows my heart
like verse in rhyme,
when cold winds blow
from east to west
the sun will glow
within my chest,
and like new buds
still white with frost
bathed in rays
while gently tossed,
I will love -
a love anew
and hope new hope
that she will too.

For varied winds
blow in life
but warm embraces
are a wife.