Winter
Aug 26 · 1 min read

These days,
shades of leaves have started to turn
yellow, faded and dry;
the road we once frequented
has long been deserted and ghosted;
wildflowers that bloom
too infrequently,
by the road,
they bloom in vain.
as coldness seeps in every day
misty eyes greet golden mornings
days aren’t warm, it begs
to come to an end.
eyes search what the heart knows isn’t there
fingers grasp thin air
our goodbyes
are nothing more
than punctuation marks
on a sentence long finished.
Let the winter come
Let me say
Farewell.
