Dance of Winters Hand

the leaves turn as they fall twisting on the breeze in a dance of winters hand on my world hurry along the path each footfall scattering the leaves with a dry rasping sound winter cold the air harshly grasps at me as landscape spread in brilliant white snowfall makes a trial of this inevitable trek in morning light my books and papers heavy if only in a worrying mind scrawled there the first words of poetic heart ill defined the weight of the matter at hand joyful poems of a true beauty lover and my desire for her affections this itself is the rub winters hand cannot write a warm thought now all these years and poems later my eyes open my heart hearing this new winters day fades into view and still i struggle to cross the snowbound landscape with the weight of a thousand words with the self deception of a young heart believing the promise of warm loves where hope springs eternal the leaves turn dance of winters hand on my world