Fond Goodbyes

Brittle air

assaults my nostrils,

crackling in my head as I inhale deeply,

savoring its crisp, clean bite.

Morning coffee

steams in the mug

balanced carefully in chilled fingers,

as I tread carefully on the lawn.

A tentative sip

spreads flavorful warmth,

Confirming the temperature is perfect

For this cold, frosted morning.

The blue sky

Will soon go gray

With winter's first storm quickly approaching.

The leaves fell and faded long ago.

Autumn leaves

And I sigh,

Expelling the fog of my warmed breath to scatter

Along with the remnants of Fall.

Distant sounds

Of morning traffic

Portend the inevitable awakening of a colder world

And I have preparations to make.

For now,

I stand still,

Fingers cupped now around the fading warmth of the mug,

Bidding winter a warm welcome.

***

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Created for Vocal's "The Sound of First Frost Challenge: