the frost has come

glazing the familiar landscape with white

white on the green-brown grass, matted by your footsteps

white on the dirt, where the grass is already torn

thin sheets of ice snap as you step up the path,

across the torn up lawn, to a familiar scene

you, standing across from me

biting your lips, glancing side to side

anything to avoid my eyes

i love autumn, the sight of bare trees, watching children fall into piles of leaves

but there's a taste this morning, lingering in the air

i taste winter