You Left Winter Behind

When the autumn breeze cools
I will hear peace in leaf rustle,
a quiet, strange calmness
that flows between near-barren boughs.
I will feel the breeze on my skin
blowing and blowing and blowing
layering me in promises
that tomorrow holds, layering
me in memories from yesterday.
I will wrap the wind about me,
keep it as close as a blanket
in the coolest of Winter's eves,
held tight in my white knuckled fists
that refuse to believe you have left
me here, to make a lone stand
among dormant trees.