these days

these days
after the summer has turned itself into fall
and the wind bites, even alongside the sun,
i take day sleep with the window wide open.
it does well to warm my skin and bone marrow
under blankets thickened with feathers,
when i’ve not done well with forgetting.

and these days
i walk with my hands deep inside my pockets
seeking the touch of the lining
as if they were the goosebumps
last week’s skin.

the temperature is dropping,
the sky darkens much earlier than before.
but if i wrap that hand-knitted scarf
around my neck, over and over
and over again as it was intended,
it and all of it will keep me from getting too cold.