crisp air of Halloween,
i harvest the currents of musk
rising from you,
i bend and in a rustle
of autumn leaves
falling red, gold and orange, i
kiss you.
on your promise of renewal
the storms of November
gather embracing me in
ghostly chill,
drawing my hands
from your warm
breast, and breathing its
future frost deep into me
entombing my heart
that has lost time
and thinks spring is
unfurling in your
green eyes. that the red
of your hair flames the earth
to bloom and bud,
while my kisses fade in the
pumpkin and apple spiced
passing of fall;
but the secrets of your hips
haunted the chill
from me,
and taught my eyes and heart that
this air thick with Halloween, is
the fragrance of spring.
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