You are the chill
just before the frost

that north wind cold
of indifference

into this my life
still in Autumn
of renewal.

You make me bare of leaf
barren of life
dry and brittle
without beauty
or spirit.

I was so close
on the edge of tiny death
from which I would
at last survive
when regenerated
of soul.

You completely changed the landscape
Which now
like frozen
tundra
supports no life.

And I
in the midst
of change
cannot draw strength of morph
inside myself
to complete the cycle
of coming back.

I now long for gray of sky
calm of life
strong of moon at night
to continue
into winter
with change over my shoulder
behind me

so the chill of you
will not make lifeless
that which is
amidst refresh
awaiting Spring.

WhiteRose