Don'T Leave Me In the Winter

Pin prick tattoos from wind nipped lobes, designs from cracked and wrinkled scrolls; don’t leave me in the Autumn’s robes amidst the drift of wandering souls. I'll weep behind night drunken suns in drizzly, drowsy fruitlessness; where vines lay bare 'round garden run; and frost keeps winsome, Ge repressed. I'll lose my mind as knotted knuckles still rap the pane and crook a finger and limbs of old oft mock with chuckles while all my restlessness still lingers. My soul will quake where Northwinds chide and seep through cracks in firm shut doors, don’t leave me where the Winter thrives and snow reveals no kinder shores. Don’t leave when sun is layered thin and glints off bars of iron ice, where gawking snowmen judge my sins with heavy thoughts and brutal vice. Just take me with you when you leave behind the teasing thaws of war, where trees take shape from the bereaved accepting ice forevermore. Don’t leave me in the haunted lair, the dank and dismal realms of white; my heart can’t bare the stale affair that courts depression in the night.