A Chill

a chill in the air,
drinking coffee, and listening
for the groan

of leaves beginning to turn.
and the sight of your eyes
undressing you heart

in the simplest moment...
the wrinkled smile, talking
softly about nothing....

and giving it meaning.
some things just are...
and destiny is a small wind

that blows the falling leaf
into the almost sound
of laughter on your lips...

a chill in the air...
we build a small fire
with the hands of companions,

and lovers.

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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