this time last year, i wrote about apple cider,
the smell of bonfires in the air,
and midnight walks with you
I sat at the cafe on the wobbly stool
with coffee a bit too burnt
in my favorite yellow sweater
I caught a glimpse here and there
of strangers walking hand in hand
through crowded streets
some were lovers, other just friends
and the girl smoking on the patio
looked unsure of either
i wish that i had held onto that moment
a little longer because this
past October was not like the rest
the streets are empty and so is my mug
the air has gone stale and the leaves
don't fall the same when
no one is watching
the melodic tune of the wind
passing us by is a distant memory
we stumbled, tripped, and crashed
into november without warning
all we can do is hope that
the winter snow cushions the fall
and buries us beneath
it all so that we can
grow anew