First Frost on Thanksgiving

First Frost on Thanksgiving

The first frost kissed the earth, so cold, so clear,

A silent witness to this hollow year.

Thanksgiving dawned with skies of pale gray,

Marking the first one since you went away.

The brittle leaves crackled beneath my feet,

Their whispers carrying memories bittersweet.

Each blade of grass twinkled, a gem in the light,

A frosted reminder of love lost to night.

The table was set, though something felt wrong,

An empty chair where you once belonged.

The frost adorned the windowpane’s edge,

Like silver lace, or a solemn pledge.

Nature’s beauty seemed to softly confide,

That even in stillness, love won’t subside.

Your laughter used to warm this space,

Now echoes linger, an empty embrace.

I raised a glass, though my heart was torn,

Thankful for you, though quietly worn.

The frost melts slowly as the sun ascends,

Much like the grief that time pretends

To soften, though its sharp edges remain,

A love eternal, entwined with pain.

Rest in peace, my love, this frosty Thanksgiving,

I will never forget you as long as I am living.

The love we shared, taken too soon,

The only light now in my life is the stars and the moon.