A winter wind arrived too soon,
Spilling spirits of a memory forth.
An embittered song of the North
Soaked my will with her tune.
She howled and cried and covered
The gorgeous Autumn colors,
And beat upon my wooden door,
And scratched upon my rusted shutters.
She tucked me in as a mother
Would lay her child to rest…
As night and day tottered together
Drunk near death in winters nest.