The Last Dance

Blustery she is
The wind that crosses the River East
Shaking the remaining leaves from their wresting
Never resting she does not cease her hoary breath
Others, stronger than I ignore her warnings
But I hear her curse
She is coming for the weary and infirm
She is searching for me in shudders and shakes
This is all it takes
To confirm that this year
I am willing to go without a whimper
I am ready for the kiss that takes away forever
My breath.