Autumn, Old Friend
Autumn, Old Friend
Hey Autumn, old friend, I’ve missed your gentle sway, with leaves like whispers in the fading light of day. Your cloak’s a patchwork quilt of amber’s sweet embrace, and I wonder if you dance beneath the moon’s soft lace.
You paint the world in colors that the sun forgot to name, as if the sky’s a canvas where the hues are all the same. Your breath is crisp as laughter, your touch is cool and kind. With every falling leaf, you leave a trail behind.
I see you in the shadows, where the twilight starts to play, and hear you in the murmurs of the breezes on their way. You’re the silence in the stories that the trees have often told, the secret in the twilight where the days are growing old.
Oh, Autumn, how you waltz through fields of golden grain. With every step you leave a hint of joy mixed with the pain. Do you know the songs you sing are written in disguise, in melodies of memories beneath the fading skies?
So tell me, do you wander through the corridors of time, or do you simply linger where the moments are sublime? You’re the echo in the evening, the sigh beneath the dusk, a fleeting touch of magic in the air we almost trust.
Until we meet again, dear friend, in the softening of the light, I’ll keep a piece of you within the folds of every night. For in the dreams you scatter like confetti in the air, you leave a touch of wonder and a secret everywhere.
The Voice
November 2024
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