Somewhere, the air frosts the breath

In a distant North

The skies ready themselves

For winter’s rush

In that far-off

It is sweater weather

And oceans are gunmetal

Underneath monochromatic sky

We come alive

With the least bite of a chill

And nights cocoon us

In a bed of auburn leaves

We rest here, waiting

As the heat draws long

Across nightfall

And the coyotes sing

A heartbreak to the moon ~ Caroline A. Slee