The Snows Are Coming

Standing in my yard
my eyes strain upward
in search of one more glorious
starlit summer night
to share with a friend.

But the clouds of autumn have arrived.

The snows are coming.

Cold, pure, white
they will blanket my heart,
the snows.
A gentle cover
that shall softly soothe and salve,
the snows.

Summer is gone.
The snows are coming.
My heart shall slumber.

Our springs' renewal apart.