Your Poetry

Your poetry wraps around me
Like the cold air of the August summer
In the Carolina mountains
Like trees whistling
Like the castles on the chess set
Black and white and stalwart
And yet
On their edges
Somehow free
Somehow mobile
Somehow moving
Somehow changing
Over and over
You stand with your arms crossed
Showering in the passing headlights
Head bowed.  Eyes soft.  Upturned chin.
You shuffle childish feet
Blow the permeable carbon dioxide into starving star crusted horizon
The moon is barely there
Barely breathing
A bite missing.  Behind it?  Azure Silence and Blackness.
Your poetry...
I hide my smile behind teeth marks and pull my scarf from my backpack.
I touch your chin and say,
"Autumn is coming."