I'm your jester here. In the dawn of early fall evening crosswalks, I point out my favourite book stores. Look, the red maples, turning into dust, paint-by-number yellows. Look, the dirt is drying up crisping your white shoes on edges. I walk through Ossington with you stirring through my mind. Street lights flicker well into the signs of cold October. Look, the fancy stores, the cute golden retriever in the red rain coat. Fall is when the only things you know become the things I've named them. Soon I can offer you a new season: frosting window panes and shiny Distillery lights. The first time you see me okay with change - see me laugh with my friends boldly, coming back into my honest self. I'm forlorn for you to love the world the way I do, because I brought you here.