winter

the winter chill
set in
and told us
hyper people
to go slower
warmth had to come
from the inside
and preserved by
down and wool
we walked
like fluffed, plump
birds
across streets
and over bright fallen leaves
like a young death
the leaves are still vivacious
on the concrete

we crawl into heavy blankets
and sense morning light
outside our eyelids
our bodies synchronized
with the turn of
nature
resist
the routines of man
and stubbornly protest
the clock
we are slowed
by the winter
into morning contemplation

the youthful act of summer
the speed of fall
halted
and matured
by the cocoon
of winter