Autumn

The air's so still I barely notice

The rain stopped falling down.

The misting bark hangs on the tree where endless dreams were.

If only...fades back into days where

rushing's pace and busy's face stand


derelict, empty


Moving now and barely see the spotted sleep, imperative.


Where mingling and isolation blur.


I marvel at how little leaves its imprint on the passing time.


Indistinct, dissonant


And still I see


That never would it want to be the thing that moves inside of me.


Yet still I'm drawn to days gone,


How can it grip yet pass me by?


Poking, prodding


Most of me has turned into you.

Young eyes shining and I'm longing for home.