Winter

Winter

Tears in the wind
trace the fissures of my face
and blaze slowly down
neither falling
nor stating doubts.

In a sense, that is a good thing
as I have said goodbye
too many times.

In the deepening shadows
of my days
panes are more opaque
and scenes of youth
may not have existed.

I feel the breath of winter
subduing the vigor of fall
and I am spinning
like bees around a hive
to find even second hand love.