Grandmother

The wind is hard and cold as I walk home.
The willows grab and tug at my wool hat.
I have a chill all the way to the bone.
The leaves fly about me as if they were bats.
The rain begins to fall like sap from trees.
I run, but I fall flat-faced in the mud.
I get up and wipe some mud off my knees.
My thoughts tell me, this day, I'll always love.
I wipe away tears and run for my house.
Ducking under low and swinging branches.
When I got home I looked like a drowned mouse.
              But once inside, grandmother stands smiling, with a blanket. 
              I'm in a bad mood but I will fake it.