I should have known it when I felt it first –
when the colours on the leaves started changing
and the air became real crisp in the morning-
It’s in the glimmer of rays that shine onto windows
and reflect through condensation on a glass of water-
the one that I held to my lips right before I smelled it-
right before it filled me up and I sighed it out.
Then I wished I could have it back again.
It lingers in the mist and rests among the leaves-
only to let its presence be known by the soft crunches that sound so familiar.
She told me her heart
always aches this time of year
and I said “listen, I get it.
Autumn is missing people season.
At least it’s poetic.”
With a sentimental heart,