I grab my grey Hollister hoodie,
leaping outta the truck,
into an empty hay field,
it’s dusk.

My brown Uggs sink
into the pile of apple red, musky yellow,
pumpkin orange,
autumn leaves.

The crisp autumn air,
brushes my face with cold,
my cheeks turn a rosy pink.

He grabs my hand,
interlocks his fingers with mine.
his hands are still warm,
from getting out of the truck.

We walk across the dying grass,
kicking up the leaves,
I’m giggling like a little school girl
head over heels for a guy,
which I am.

As soon as we reach everyone,
its pitch black, the moon is full,

stars are swaying in the sky.

We can see the blazing orange and yellow flames,
plopping down on the hard Missouri ground,
next to the fire, trying to warm up,
my frigid body.

He sits behind me,
wraps his arms around me

he’s my blanket.