Coming in the door

Golden sunlight falling through the door,
Wafting in a breeze
carrying the scent of golden leaves
the bite of cold, light of winter slide in on the beam
the gas kicks on
I should close the door.

Warmth flows dancing over shoulders on one side
cold creeps over toes and knees too
can't close the door
Have to let in the light
cars passing through flying leaves redgold
trains passing hollow whistles on endless tracks
the town is awakealive
me too.