A Morceau to October's Ember Blush

🍂 I step out of a room where September's light is slowly dimming.
Dear friend, it's not so much an end, but more of a loosening -
like a hand that was holding yours and slowly now realizes it must let go.

🍂

The air changes first...it thins and cools,
Carrying the faint scent of what’s coming.
I notice it in the mornings,
when the sun rises a little later
and seems to hesitate at the edge of the sky...

And now, I bid you adieu. For...

🍂In her Incarnadine beauty - October Awaits

I walk through the last warm breath of the year -
past gardens that have paused their blooming,
past evenings that dim too quickly,
past the soft ache of unfinished summer promises.

The trees begin their quiet negotiations,
trading green for gold
they whisper low... but you can hear
if you pause long enough.

And there’s a moment...
small, but unmistakable -
when you realize you’re no longer in it.
You turn around
and the before is still barely there,
but already fading at the edges,
like a photograph left too long in the sun.

I pause. I drift. I exhale.

🍂

And then October beckons...opening its door
with a sound like leaves gathering.
I step forward,

carrying everything September taught me
in the pockets of my heart.

Naked and Bare...I walked towards October...

Shedding my old skin layer by layer.

🍂 October ... I've arrived at your gate
the air tastes of cider, beginnings and endings,
the trees whisper in dialects of flames.

October - a country of rust and smoke,
where the roads are paved with fallen suns
and the wind chants elegies for green things.

You walk through its corridors of amber,
past lanterns shining like hollow moons,
past rivers that remember summer
but now dream only of frost.

The streets are soft with wet leaves,
their colors tarnished and brilliant,
they rustle like old paper
whenever you walk through them.

🍂Lights glow from shrouded houses,

warm promises beginning to dim.

Windows stay dark

even when you pass close enough

to feel the cold gathering at its door.

🍂But October throws its door wide open

Inside, time curls up like a lazy cat, sleeping...

perchance to dream until November knocks.

Farther off, laughter crackles—

a bright, restless heartbeat in the distance.

You can’t see the people, only sparks rising

and the aroma from the distant barbecue

...tiny departures into the early night.

There’s the path... between the trees, where the forest has parted its coat for you, inviting you into its deeper rooms. The wind carries woodsmoke, and somewhere a crow calls out an ominous caw.

October is a place you wander,
not a place you stay.
Its a conversation
between warmth and surrender,
its sounds a mixture of comfort and warning.

But when you step inside—
truly inside—
you feel the world exhale,
and you realize
you have entered a country made of endings
that somehow knows how to hold you.

October wraps you in sheer, flowing veils that glimmer with russet colored light, as if it were weaving your new skin. You step from fading gold into a burning canopy, the veil trailing like smoke and dawn combined - a passage between warmth and mystery.

Like a shadow shedding its last warm coat, you step into October’s deep, ember‑flamed embrace.