I won't write about
sunsets painted on tree canopies
or how the horizon is aglow with flames,
I won't write about the spiced apple cidar
and the cinnamon of my childhood.
Autumn is not those sensations,
not those memories,
not to me at least.

Autumn was the start of a school year,
eagerly awaiting my friends
and the joy they brought me daily.
It was the community
and the unity
that made it my favorite time.
It was morning walks
with my nose turning red
and the sky still dark,
but everything was still bright and fun
with laughter and conversation.
It was leaving school late after rehearsals,
throats raw
and knees red.

It was squishing into the same booth
at the same restauraunt
and debating about what appetizers to get.
It was not having enough money in my bank account,
but not caring
because spending time with friends was priceless.

Autumn was figure skating,
tugging at nylon laces
so hard
that they sliced open my palms,
and tinted my laces red.
It was purple and black knees
and long nights with heating pads.
It was staying up late
on the phone
trying to figure out calculus
and crying
(just a little bit).

Autumn is a season of change.
My parents visited me
after my first four weeks at college.
It was an adjustment,
and a lonely one at that.
I didn't realize how much it hurt
and how much I truly missed them
until I heard my mother's voice
and I took off running
until I was back in her arms.

Autumn is sobbing into her shoulder
and holding her close.
Autumn is turning to look at my dad,
smiling despite his teary eyes,
as I say hi
and pull him close too.
It's the bags of food they brought,
and the snacks,
and the stickers I bought in China
two years ago with my mother,
but never used.
It's going to a restauraunt
and talking as if nothing ever changed.

It's struggling to find parking
and then going to sing in a choral concert.
It's walking around campus
spitting out fun facts I learned and memorized
without realizing.
It's showing off the gorgeous garden
and old house.
It's sitting at a high table that's too small
and drinking water together.
It's buying sweatpants I never thought I wanted
until I remembered it was getting colder.
It's walking back to my dorm,
giving my mother her jacket
(that she forgot to grab for the second time)
and hugging her tightly again.
It's pulling my dad close
and then slipping cash into my hand.
It's saying goodbye
and saying I love you.
It's watching them walk down the hall,
and wondering if they're crying
just like I am.
It's sitting at the laptop,
opening it up
to write
about their first visit
and seeing that it's the fall equinox.

Hello Autumn.
I missed you.