Spotted, spoiled-milk; 

Look beyond these grimy walls

And see the horse tail

Brush into existence fierce vermillion stripes,

Goldenrod veins clambering upwards…

Fall. The end. What is it for you? It wasn't much for me before. It was just when it started to get cold. The pre-winter. Nothing more than that. No orange leaves. It didn't even snow. What was so special about the pre-winter?

Six apples in front of my eyes

Waiting for their greater purpose

Each painted a deep, glossy red, reminding me of the perfume that sits on my desk

I fall in love with you

every fall.

Seeing your face

after a summer away

sends shock waves through my body.

I forget I love you

until the air starts cooling,

until school starts again.

I’m 16

That means I have 2 more falls till I leave home

2 more Saturdays spent raking autumn leaves

2 more Halloween parties

2 more homecomings

2 more visits to the pumpkin patch 

burn the polaroids you took this summer with the 

first lighter you ever bought, back when you were twelve

and needed to feel something that wasn't packaged, artificial

Galore are the hung fruits.
Their ample flesh and roundness;
their cherub cheeks reddened
from the pinching of a breeze.
They are tapered to branches
dangling perfectly, prostituted
for their flavorful innards.

In the crisp embrace of my russet leaf patch, 
a Queen Bee reigns supreme, Her presence unmatched. 
Her saintly swarm rustles me, yet I am blessed, 
for She brings forth the chilly scent of ember rest. 

As the autumn breeze gently caresses my skin, I embark on a journey of love and longing. As the sun sets upon the autumn sky, I embrace the melancholy beauty of fading memories.

It is still summer. Not fall. 

Call me stubborn, but I refuse to forget. I choose to remember. 

I remember riding the train, speeding past hills that glow yellow from the sun. 

crisp autumn air, whispers bear

hill crests only we know where leaves are so

amber and the sky is so golden.

autumn leaves, they
fall to the pine-bathed
soil, and my heart falls
with them, and I think it's burning
too, burning too, for all it takes
is one glance into your
amber eyes, september sight, and