Leavening of Winter

October, you are the lover of months …

Leaves, you are crinkle-cut rain, dry morning wind tasting like a cigarette and coffee

your automatic cleaving of the morning shadows

your hesitation when the breeze pauses to consider the skyline

breeze, your hazelnut breath dry as a migratory route

a throat after coffee, disguising the hints the leaves leave behind

Millions of deciduous footballs, floaters of long-shadow dreams

your blanket ready to be scooped like nachos into the cheese dip of November

Sunday, you are the caveman of days

October, you are the lover of months

Lovers, you are not alone

in the leavening of winter

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