Autumn Is

the music you hear in an empty room, that brings back the 50s, and you sitting by the window pane

the crimson sky that bleeds in every sigh
the smell of dried, over roasted beans that was the last of what used to be your daily favorite

the dust on your window pane, the pile of mold and dirt on your car's wiper,

the familiar tone of fading laughter, 

the steady pace of running
forgetting every trace of summer
stopping by a cafe that takes your breath away
standing still, ready to open the door
entering a room filled with lights and rust and sweet vanilla

the empty seat in front her
at 10:59am, and your first hello
knowing her name, 
when she smiles back,
the certainty of warmth by the time winter arrives

Prompted by :