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  • Writer's pictureTony Frobisher

The Cold of Autumn


The Cold of Autumn We walked over fallen colours That cracked in the crisp morning air. A frosted patina, Dusting the ground And the shuffled sounds Of feet rustling through A thickened carpet Of autumn leaf, Leaving forgotten footprints. Waiting their disappearance In the tepid warmth Of the barely risen sun. Each breath we took, sharp. Tasting the cold on our tongues, We walked on as toes and fingers, Sang in tingled protest. Each prick of pain Penetrating our thoughts, Embracing cold. Each step that kicked the frost Into swirling icy clouds And disturbed the fallen leaves, A reminder we were alive. _____________________________ Today is #nationalpoetryday with the theme #poetryforachange I love the changes the seasons merging from one to another bring. And the crisp cold autumn mornings that evoke such powerful feelings...life, sadness and happiness, wanting to be with those you miss so much after they have gone....the most profound change we ever experience. My poem The Cold in Autumn is dedicated to my daughter Milla. I miss her so very much. 

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