bring it on

i would cringe

at summers end, the last dog

days

of august.

looking north

to where

it would begin.

the wind.

the snow and ice.

the shedding of leaves.

the heavy

coats hung deep into

the wells

of closets, 

now retrieved.

but now i welcome it.

i understand

the necessity

of death and rebirth,

the rising

from the earth of new

love,

new seed.

bring it on.