An Early Frost

Once again they’re alone,
like in the beginning,
only now it’s winter and
the backseat of their car
rides emptied, a painful
reminder of an early frost,
her last breath still resting
warm on their icy cheeks.

And now, but for the rattle
of a loose tailpipe
that always gripes over
the last frozen mile home,
there remains no hint
of a previous season,
though the animals
seem to know, bowing
their heads each time
the tailpipe announces
its return.