Dear Autumn

It is to be

That it will fall upon my books

Upon my lap

Upon my hair.

It will break it between my fingers

And breathe in the dead air

But it flows just as it does.

The trees fade

The sun bleeds

Leaves die

Yet they are full of colour.

Ground becomes a feast of flourishing

A mirror below every branch

The droplets make everything shine

A golden crest cemented into the streets

I bear the familiar shades that brings me

Closer to you, catching each solid moment,

Bronze and maroon, to read you through.

It rises from my mug, clears my mind,

Clears my soul, and wraps me in the warmth

That I crave and keeps me close to you.

November knows me and so do you. All I’ve

Ever wanted, is for your days to last as

Mine grow shorter, but never changing,

As you always fall back to me, and let me

Dream for mornings dipped in crimson.

The hue of my language is casted into words

That brings my lips to part

In eloquence only then, zeal.

The sky joins you in the days of harvest

Forever will I yearn for you to

Depart from that star.

Only do I want to depart in your

Russet heart,

Dear Autumn.