Leafs of paper fell against an autumn-destined sun; words flew through the blind eyes of an anticipating one.
Cars blew smoke in curls, across the still-wet grass, to wrench away a single soul who couldn’t help but pass.
Sun’s up by sun’s down as dawn turned into dusk, awaiting time to sleep, while the moon held its bright husk.
Remembering their way through an ever-changing path, it wasn’t hard to worry for the cold street’s twisted wrath.
A figure in the distance, hope hid but a flame. They walked and met each other’s eyes on the cold, dark, silent plain.