Autumn
Autumn spoke to me with a bittersweet whisper,
Murky shadows grew beneath the chestnut tree
Wistfully I pondered in the sting of the cold,
How could a season of death,
Remind me of home?
I followed the wisps floating through the forest,
of red, gold and orange tones.
Haunting me,
The fog was icy against my skin.
But when I saw the cobwebs with the morning dew,
The ivory pumpkins against the dirt,
I knew,
That within the autumn, I could be reborn anew.
Teardrops fell as I stood beneath the caramel foliage,
Pausing with silent words.
All this time,
Melancholy was clouding my eyesight.
Perhaps there is hope in autumn,
More than I thought.
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