March

The chill spreads in my veins in the autumnal air
the lone crow speaks my name in tones
of mocking austerity
One foot followed the other in counted paces
as my dog trots devotedly at my side
the trees still show green in September morning
dripping verdigris and malachite from their heavy limbs
waiting patient for the fire of fall foliage
Crow follows me in full voice tinged with hysteria or sadness
and is the only other soul we hear
My dog glances up, his brown eyes meet my hazel,
I let his desire to explore carry us in meandering steps
along the yellow road and beside the icy water of the creek
I light a cigarette and draw deep, the smoke becoming
one with my lungs and bloodstream
an old habit frowned on in polite company
Crow caws his plaintive tune through the stillness
of the sunrise sky
and our feet tread the graveled path in contemplation
The frost in the air touches my face as we turn for home
this road well-worn with our footprints
in the distance the clock strikes the half hour
as the sun lights the sky and opens
the lid of the vault of the night
Crow calls us home

2 thoughts on “March

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