After a wet summer,
Autumn had begun like home.
The ground burnt by frost
Grey and dull;
Interspersed with fiery crimsons,
Renaissance gold.
Orange leaves that accepted their fate
To fall and rest on sullen earth.
This be our résumé;
Small specks of life and laughter
That ring out in the misty valley.
Down narrow lanes
School joggers run
Jumping frozen puddles,
Determination etched on brow.
I turned to you and sighed;
‘Somewhere between desire and death
Our lonely shadows reside’:
But a church bell was the only reply,
Chiming softly in the dawn,
As we sat on the the white bench,
Bathed in golden adorn.





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