First Frost

The furnace clicked, a sudden heave,

then pushed out air that felt too dry.

Outside, the oak began to grieve,

its branches sharp against the sky.

My neighbor, out with the small dog,

breathed out a cloud, then another one.

His puff of life, a smoky log,

there for a second, then it's gone.

The world just tightened, pulled its belt.

A hard edge where soft colors were.

That chill, the kind you’ve always felt,

it just makes everything blur.

It’s not just cold, it’s a closing down.

A hush that sinks into the bone.

Another season's lost its crown,

and left us to face it alone.