Solitary Survivors

I walk along the streets as darkness falls
Bundled deep within layers
Of sweaters and scarves, hands deep within my pockets
Smiling as the frigid air caresses my face.

I breathe deeply, absorbing the scent of pine,
Brusque air and dried leaves
Mingled with the scent of logs
Burning, escaping into the night.

An owl in the distance hails the deepening dusk.
The wind blows off the last of summers survivors.
Turning up the collar of my weathered pea coat,
I find myself gazing into the face of a full harvest moon.

How I treasure these solitary walks.
The peace of a gentle evening deep into fall.
Crisp pine needles crunch beneath our feet,
My dog Blue and I out for our daily evening jaunt.