serenade like ghosts on the breeze
pheromones urging frenzy,
winter has quickened its step
The scent of fallen leaves
and sight of cotton carelessly
forgottenon September’s swings
reminds of encroaching darkness
Looking up through the bottom of
sky
past blue’s illusionmoon reaches towards sun
filling witness with warm thirst
Crisp air’s kiss upon apple flesh
blossom pink cherry cheeks while morning mists
dance with playful thick fingers
Vanilla bean shadows
spill over my coffee cupinfusing me with
rare and wondrous flavor
Leaving longing for cinnamon,
nutmeg
cloves and those passionate
spices that dress up the dull, dreary days
of winter’s cocoon
