The leaves on the tree have now a different shade.

They were green and orange and red.

Now they are green, orange, red and ache.

Not dark, deep ache.

Ache with a tinge of nostalgia.

Light.

Something between missing and longing.

Not so light that it stands plain against all other shades

Because that new one,

that ache,

though light,

stands starker than the rest.

The leaves on the tree have now another shade.

Green, orange, red and ache.

Light, conspicuous ache.