When Autumn Speaks
Leaves descend on whispered breath,
Like letters lost, unsent, unread,
The earth exhales a chilled caress,
Where fading days in silence tread.
October threads its smoky skein,
Weaving tales in dusk's embrace,
Each word a leaf, a fleeting stain,
Drifting slow through time and space.
Cold winds hum in hollow halls,
Where promises dissolve to mist,
The twilight's pulse in shadows falls,
A hollow song the dusk has kissed.
Yet dawn replies with softened voice,
A cardinal's sharp cry unfolds,
It speaks of loss, it speaks of choice,
Of whispered love the season holds.
One amber morn, the trees converse,
Their leaves like whispers, bold and free,
Not just decay, but verse and verse—
When autumn speaks, it speaks to me.
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