Autumn Leaves

I first met Autumn when I was very, very young, she was just a shy, quiet girl, but so very bright. These maple trees were our favorite to play among, as our laughter faded away with the falling sunlight. I can still see her brown sweater, and reddish-orange hair, blowing around her smiling face, like a flickering flame. Her innocent voice still whispers on October's cool air, near the place, where our lonely swing remains the same. As the summer days said goodbye, and welcomed September, the death of my dear, young friend came all too soon. Autumn was one of those whom you'd always remember, her soul was as beautiful as the shining, harvest moon. She was here, then gone, leaving words that were never spoke, to this day, I have never understood why Autumn had to leave. Her presence lingers on the wind, like drifting wood-smoke, as once a year, her playful spirit arises on All Hallow's Eve. August, 4th, 2014