Writing

I like to think I smile more when autumn comes

I caught myself grinning out the window

Trees back home don’t look like that, so full

A tree skirt has a Christmas connotation

But the middle of October brings its own

I am so creative

So flowing

Expressive

And yet so literal

Precise

Logical

I am a walking 80's cliche

A walking contradiction

The season changed and so did you

Growing cold and flicking me away

As if I was just a fly that flew 

Too close to your nose

And as golden leaves fall to the ground, 

Sometimes I feel like I did too

I remember back in those days

When kids were friends just because they wanted to be

Before trivial things designed social boundaries

Body nested in the damp grass, 
the sky gazes over my skin. 
Feet pulled by the still stars 
while the earth keeps racing.