The amber leaves begin their flight,
To drift through gold and fading light.
A sudden chill creeps through the air,
And finds the spaces where you were there.
The maples bleed in crimson hues,
While morning grass is damp with dues.
I walk the paths we used to tread,
With all the words we left unsaid.
The wind is humming a hollow song,
Of days that felt a lifetime long,
And as the summer’s warmth recedes,
My lonely heart remembers needs.
I see you in the harvest moon,
A ghostly light, a quiet tune.
The scent of woodsmoke, crisp and gray,
Reminds me how you slipped away.
The earth prepares for winter’s sleep,
While I have promises to keep—
To love you still through frost and rime,
Across the distance, across the time.
So let the autumn winds blow cold,
And let the dying year unfold.
For every leaf that hits the ground,
A memory of you is found.
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