Her Name Was Autumn, She Vanished as Winter Knocked
I hope next year she will return

Her Name Was Autumn, She Vanished as Winter Knocked
Her name was Autumn, soft as falling breath,
she came wrapped in amber light and quiet flame,
leaves clung to her like whispered promises,
and every step she took, the world leaned in.
We met where the air held a gentle chill,
where gold drifted slowly from tired trees,
she smiled as though she knew my ending,
yet still chose to begin with me.
Her fingers traced the lines of my restless hands,
as if reading a story not yet spoken,
she laughed, low and warm like fading sun,
and something in me mended, something broke.
We walked through days that tasted of fire and calm,
through nights that folded close around our skin,
she spoke of time as if it were a visitor,
never a promise, never a friend.
I asked her once if she would stay,
she turned, her eyes carrying distant frost,
said love is not the same as keeping,
and not all warmth survives the cost.
The winds grew sharp, the sky grew pale,
her voice thinned into the air,
I reached for her, but held only silence,
winter had found us standing there.
Now leaves fall without her knowing,
and cold sits heavy where she stood,
her name still lingers on my lips,
as if calling her back ever could.

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About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
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