State of Affairs

Seasons change.
Leaves turn,
And fall
Congregating in crumpled piles that we traipse through abjectly.

Coldness creeps in
Shrouded by the descending darkness.

An icy breeze slithers past protective layers
Caressing my neck,
Chills erupting in its wake.

Still.
Still?? I mutter angrily, condensation sneaking up my frames.
I hunker deeper into my fleece, despite increasingly limited vision,
And press forward into the raw darkness.

Dawn has yet to break