When Winter Comes

It rained last night. When we woke up we found
A low sun, shrill beneath the lowering sky
And branches dripping on the sodden ground.
The day before, wild geese came flying by
To leave the world bereft of colour, grey
As if those geese had torn its heart away.

It stormed today. The wind was in our ears -
The air was filled with leaves and eerie moans
Like pained goodbyes and badly worded fears
And it was chill and scornful, and my bones
Felt cold at the approach of winter, wild,
Intense and bitter, never reconciled

And prone to keep its distance, just like I
Will never tell my troubles right out loud
But softly whisper them into the shy
Dry ears of wheat, far from the knowing crowd -
If I got too articulate I might
Have others ask just why it rained last night.