Seasonal Affective

"The backyard door is always open, it shudders
with a creaking sigh, longing
for company on winter nights.
I could find my way in, easy as lying.

This season is the kind that makes us pine
for our summertime to be handed back to us.
Sharing dreams from separate beds,
waking to wish for sleep again.

Oh, love, but what
will we do, when this isn’t enough?
When the backyard door is nailed shut
and the windows are all boarded up,
when we don’t live here anymore?"

lingering questions...