My Autumn

When autumn came to Springhill,

fallen leaves turned the colors

of harvest-time pumpkins

and ripe golden pears.

The trees stood naked and dry,

and the evening chill arrived

a little sooner each night.

When autumn came to your town,

I came back.

***************

I went to your door,

heard singing and laughing.

I thought it was the wind,

and I cursed the season.

The last blazing rays

of late September sun

lit up your front porch.

The brightness hurt my eyes;

I suddenly wanted to turn away.

I rang your doorbell instead,

exhaling softly as the door opened.

Your blue eyes stared

from the face of a tiny blonde being.

I felt the world wither around me,

wished the ground would swallow me,

and then you were there.

But your smile,

it didn’t matter anymore.

***************

Autumn came to Springhill,

and the crows rejoiced

as the green fields faded

and garden flowers grew tired.

Summer lovers parted

while crickets mourned.

Autumn came,

and I didn’t look back.