Scattered Leaves

Summer's heat circles the air
as if trying to catch it's dying breath.
A chilled breeze saunters
as if trampling an old foe.
My breath dances
it swirls in a puff of fog.
I retract cold into my lungs;
frosted grass crunching beneath me.
Warmth fades; eventually dying.
I imagine earth moving,
as if pulling us away from the heat.
Leaves scatter across the ground
akin to remains of an enemy
like battle scars.
As snow drifts to the ground,
and ice locks river water;
I watch the bare trees
as they whisper back to wind's taunt.

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