autumn came again to deliver

the last rites, stretching

the shedding skin of summer

into shadows that spelt death.

 

but you already knew, sensing 

the earth's thirsty need 

from musty baked breath

whispered up on parched roots

 

and seeing with eyes that 

could stare down the sun,

the emasculation of rays

mocked by morning mist.

 

so, too, a blanket of cold 

spreading out to envelope

the damp, wrapping itself 

like a tourniquet

around the body of winter

squeezing away life until 

the first cries of spring. 

 

but you knew all along 

what was coming and

 

precisely when

to flick the switch

to keep us

going around in circles.