To Autumn

Far from you, I wrap myself in a scarf
and the cold and empty air,
my feet kicking at golden leaves
that scatter across these lonely paths.

In the wind I imagine that I can hear
your voice, reciting songs to the birds.
I drink the sounds of the distances
until I am drunk on autumn’s fruits.

And now I can hear my heart
that beats, and beats, and carries on,
keeping time with the wind that
howls the verse of my yearning.

My hand clings to the space where
I dream that another could be.
Far from you, I wrap myself in a scarf
and the cold and empty air.

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