In Between Seasons

Sun lingers low, casting long, sad gold,

On cobblestones, where laughter used to unfold.

Autumn wind whispers secrets, dry and sere,

Of summer love, lost in memories near.

Leaves, like broken promises, swirl and descend,

Each rustle echoing silence, without end.

Saudade hangs heavy, a poignant refrain,

Of what might have been, bathed in sun's gentle rain.

Will winter's frost numb this aching ache?

Or will spring return, with love's fire to awake?

In between seasons, the heart finds its plea,

To heal, to hope, for summers yet to be.

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