Autumn to me
is not pumpkins and pies.
It is the warmth and comfort of an extra blanket,
brisk air deliciously filling up my lungs between smoke drags,
layer of muted calm in the early mornings and late nights
foreshadowing the stultification that winter will later bring.
I like the quiet but there is an element to it that also frightens me.
I like the cold but not the way it seeps into my heart,
the reunions and lightheartedness slowly solemnizing
as we prepare for the next act.
Soon after the firebird’s finale
we will return once more to ashes, dust, fear.

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