The leaves will change
And fall to our feet
The winds will blow
Let the branches meet
Crisp morning air
To fill the lungs
Of townspeople walking
Warmed by the sun
Yet still our paths
May not yet cross
Lest we bathe
In seas of loss
The world still turns
So trapped in place
Stuck longing just
To touch your face
Aug 27, 2020
Aug 27, 2020 at 1:44 PM UTC
The leaves will change
And fall to our feet
The winds will blow
Let the branches meet
Crisp morning air
To fill the lungs
Of townspeople walking
Warmed by the sun
Yet still our paths
May not yet cross
Lest we bathe
In seas of loss
The world still turns
So trapped in place
Stuck longing just
To touch your face