at my ankles

A Poem by Ben Taylor

i am draped in confidence,
the soft assurance of a late summer
wrapped around me like
the freedom
of being young,
despite feeling
the first whispers of winter
gnawing at my ankles.

i remember roaming my
neighborhood most evenings,
and how the air smelled different
after the leaves decided to drop.

my cat would come inside to sleep,
and i loved to hold him to my face,
savoring the smell of November-
at-night.

each smell is so
special
to me.

i miss him
every winter.