The betrayed

I am so old;
winter snow
ignores me

covering me
like autumn leaves
that were lifted

and carried by
turbulent warm air
through a whirlwind

of promises collected
from across the
hills and the vales

and the towns
full of chimneys
bellowing out secrets

from bedrooms where
love is betrayed
soft quilts cover

their shame; the guilt.
Outside slithery snakes
converge, suffocating

the woman, mourning
the flowers wilting
in her summer garden

bleeding betrayal
into the unforgiving
town gutters.