Love Tanka #5
Sun sets an hour
early; wind pushes east, sends
leaves adrift. Wool scarf tightens
around neck; coffee cools in
Styrofoam cup—pumpkin spice.
Pumpkin patch picked; please, contest
winner, spice up this
love with cinnamon kisses.
My Rip Van Winkle slept the
Autumn away; wood
splinters fracture his cheekbones.
Frost-bitten lips, blue
like night’s sky when moon is full,
and I dream he’ll wake in Spring.
Inspired by the following word prompt for Write or Die Wednesday.