in the chill air
no one watches.
october night,
october night.

the pumpkins and stars and broad, crisp leaves
are still and falling.
frost pulled tight
october night,
october night.

come watch the goose go down,
the nip in the air.
I know the morning will bring icy grass.
I know the afternoons will die quickly.

my face in the window
doesn't say much.
see the eaves of my face, the embers -
only my cheeks glow.
frost bites the window,
creeps up like ivy.
along the windowsill, a candle
drips wax tears
and keeps the window
looking inside.

© 1990 - 2003 Katharina Woodworth