The sky is pale baby blue.
Everything still seems to be sleeping
as the sun dances on the yellow
and orange and green leaves.
A lonely train rumbles by out of sight
and a plane ducks down, flying low,
ready to land, somewhere nearby.
You are asleep somewhere under the same sky
while I sit here, nursing a coffee
and gazing out at the familiar and yet
alien landscape that is not mine
and another world away from you
and me, another someone I could
I pine for summer
but now I’m craving
the familiarity of autumn books
that seem to shine orange and red
and brown and smell like warm drinks
and plenty of layers;
stories that glow warmth
and make me feel at one again.
Autumn is here and I long
for those long sunny days
when we walked about barefoot,
short sleeves, picnicked
in the sunshine, sand between our toes.
Autumn is here and summer is gone for real
I think as the rain outside
hammers down, the streets and skies
grey and dull, the colours have seeped
away so that now, we’re living
in black and white.
holds promises we cannot see
the dream of new beginnings
long evenings and warm days
stretching out in front of us
full of hope, expectations
and long empty days
ready for potential
unwritten canvases ready
to be filled.
But then it starts to run away
faster than we can
keep up with it
and too soon, we’re mourning
the dying days and the loss
of all that time
which once stretched
Head in the sand,
pretending not to notice that Autumn draws near.