The last day of winter

winter’s leaving
the chill’s a coarse coat
that remains, holds and bites
into
flesh

a person has gone
a part of someone else ‘s
limbs and the rest
is detached,
pained

a forgone love
leaving a maze of steps
and traces
you try to erase and
fail

a life one has spent,
not much left:
a modicum of ashes
ready to run blindly
with
the scattered
winter-wind