Was it the cruel October wind and rain
That brought back bitter memories of you;
Or yet, perhaps, the leaves all crimson stained
That harkened to our caustic pained adieu?
Perhaps it’s but the winter yet to come
Whose frozen breath casts stinging shards of ice,
That frosty shroud which smothers like a tomb—
The hollow shell of some deceiving life?
Though recollections fade with passing years
And pain may be assuaged by soothing time,
A single falling leaf can beckon tears
When brisk winds send a shiver down my spine.
How notions stray, I may yet never know—
But thoughts of you return when cold winds blow.

©Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.