Harbinger of change.
A time when leaves exude golden glows
and orange throes,
when sunsets burn in brilliant reds and pinks,
and the winds carry with it a particular chill
that reminds one that winter is on its way.
To me, Autumn was as much a herald of things to come
as it was a reminder of all the good that has happened.
Autumn brings holidays, new friends, new experiences,
all in a whirlwind of falling leaves and crisp night zephyrs.
Autumn will forever be my favorite because
Autumn brought me you.
In a flurry of rushed hellos and scattered glances,
like the flaxen leaves that twirled about outside,
you blew into my life, unassuming
I didn’t know anything about you, but like the frigid winds
I wanted to fill the air with your brilliant smile
and your soul-swelling laugh.
You fit so snugly in my arms, like a well-sewn sweater,
and your kisses were warmer and deeper than
the cups of hot chocolate you would make,
full of rainbow-colored marshmallows
There was something about the way we snuggled,
while the weather would become frightful,
where our hearts,
amidst the cracks and bruises,
learned to beat in beautiful tandem,
like apple pie and whipped cream,
pumpkin and cinnamon,
apples and caramel,
our bodies would become a sublime fusion
of skin, of hands laced together,
of lips and teeth and tongue.
I became more and more
like the honeycomb-gold,
leaves that fell,
and like them,
I fell for you.
You always hated holidays.
The memories were just too horrible to remember,
but I wanted nothing more, like Autumn, to make them new again.
To make them worth enjoying again.
To make you love again.
But there is a peculiar melancholy about Autumn, I’ve come to know.
The slow decay into winter, when trees are bare, and the wind, unforgiving,
much like ourselves.
But like the barren trees, they too, get their leaves again.
What is lost is always found,
has a habit of coming back.
And like the selfless sacrifice of the trees,
who give their leaves unconditionally,
true love begins when nothing is looked for
So as the gentle breezes begin to carry the tell-tale coolness
as the leaves begin their glorious descent to the earth below,
know that this time of year
will always remind me of you,
and I hope that when you pull your sweater tight,
you are reminded of my arms around you,
of my smile,
of my laugh,
of my lips,
and my love.
So please, wrap your lovely mind around this;
I love you. And that really is the least of it.