Tears

Tears
Come they from sorrow?
Or bitter cold,
Forlorn protection from winter's bite.
Salt - what be thy origin?

Tears
Come they from despair?
Or whistling wind
Driven from eyes grown tired and old.
Water - what be thy motive?

Tears
Shed on a winter's walk
Accept them for what they are
And ask them no more.

After the winter walk mentioned within (in Dalhousie, NB), I stormed back to my hotel room, tore off my coat, and frantically wrote the poem before I forgot it!