October's Lover

My lover comes to me only the day after the end of September.
He smells of clean air mixed with apples and wood smoke.
The air has a chill, but he is warm, loving and vibrant.
He embraces me, and I feel the world tilt toward acceptance.

He is tall, handsome, dressed in hues of copper and gold.
His touch wraps around my heart, slowing the beat from within.
We walk the streets while the leaves crunch beneath our feet,
breathing the fragrant air, taking in the chill while feeling the warmth.

As his hand reaches for mine, my breath catches with anticipation.
We laugh at the silliness of life and cry for what is yet to come.
October, bright and strong, pulsing beside me.
Day after day we cling to one another like the last leaves of autumn.

As the days move from daylight to dark, the hours grow thin.
He begins to fade and flicker like a paper lantern blowing in the wind.
November is coming fast, and he is moving on, taking the color with him,
like a guest reaching for his coat before the evening is really over,
lingering at the doorway, half turned, saying nothing yet saying everything.
He will leave the bare bones of the trees, and I will remember.