Sun, 2017/10/29

Your feet are cold and bitter 

The breeze irritates your nostril

Your glittery sweater calms you

You attract the harvested moon

Witches flying high beam at you

And, you don’t shy away

You look fiercely into their eyes

Words are suppressed, but the gaze speaks

It tells the annoyance

The dying of leaves

The sweeping cold

The lack of resistance

But, you are strong

You make it through

You accept the dare….