Autumn
Once again, as autumn comes upon us, our lines of shoes, my winter soldiers, find their way to your door. How do you cope, autumn? As your leaves turn brown and the sun fades away ever so slightly, behind a misty cloud, leaving cold, confused faces behind. The dappled sunlight does not wake me anymore. Instead wakes me much sooner your cold, icy breath, as I wrap myself in a flurry of blankets that you wish to freeze.
The ivy creeps slowly up the cracked paint and each singular leaf turns crimson in turn, tired, dreamy, caught in a thought as they fall to the ground. Each raindrop boasts bigger. Forming the annual water park for the many ants and insects crawling around below. Now I sleep listening to a storm. Slowly drifting as I pay my listening to your lullaby. How I will miss you, Autumn.