It falls and dances,

this mass of air

that roams around me.

Shapeless and graceful

the mass meets this

cold November sweat, which

trickles and tickles

the hairs on my back.

The nights become frigid,

and the glittering wonders

of a life once lived

become dust

As uncharted territory

familiarizes itself with you,

the end shows itself

in a glimpse

of fright