The last rose petals fall to the ground
leaving the rosehips bare
as autumn’s chill again comes around
to strip blooms that had been fair
The rosehips have hairs all wiry and grey
that also break off, one by one
Her color is gone, she fades away
until this rose lady’s season is done
Her petals arrayed on frosty soil
decay gently in the cold rain
while in her hips, seeds are born
to bring forth new roses again

Amidst autumn's hue, where shadows play,
A leaf named Luna danced, on her final day.
She clung to branches, worn and weak,
Yet in release, her strength would speak.

My story's not unique, yet universally true,
We all must rise, and shine through.
Like the seasons, our journeys unfold,
From darkness to light, we're made to mold.

Resilience is born, in every fall,
A chance to rise, and stand tall.
I am Luna, and this is my tale,
Of transformation, and inner prevail.

So let my words, be your guiding light,
Shine through fears, and ignite your night.
You are strong, you are brave, you are bright,
Unleash your inner strength, and take flight.

©Priyanka Bhagat

Then it is autumn,

wind, wet twilight hours, the shops --


illuminated.

O Autumn! thou hast splendidly array'd
     Nature, whose robes are treasure-rich with colour.
A patchy quilt of dying leaves decay'd,
     Thou blanketest the world with deathly dolour.
I hear a voice inside my head.  I list.
     "Come buy, come buy," I hear in my mind's ear.
My pulse doth quicken suddenly in my wrist:
     The netherworld hath never been so near.
I harken to the rattling of the leaves
     That hang like vampyre bats from skeletal trees.
The songful birds that nested 'neath the eaves
     Have long since flown away with high degrees.
I'm cold and getting colder, and my breath
Is telling me I'm close to coming Death.

we talked for an hour over chicken alfredo
and my fork kept clinking ringing crashing
against the edge of my bowl
like every time i tried to speak my hand
(knowing it could or should not strangle me silent)
would drown me out with metal

my night was sleepless on purpose
my eyes and throat begging
to shut in shame and respite but
i forced myself awake with every sip
(red bulls and cheap whiskey and stale banana bread)
i swallowed into grimaces
i swallowed into laughter

and my soles ached and argued
against the not-quite salted sidewalks
and the decaying skeletons of autumn
against the freezing arterial
and they all knew i could never catch up
as i ran behind shouting to wait
just a second let me reach–

for what?

for who?

the words i wasted don’t exist anymore.
now i talk over myself and my lover
and the words don’t matter;
they flow between us,
herbal tea with cream and sugar
flows between us like
sunlight pouring in through the blushing leaves
the sunset trees
that only we and the woodpeckers can touch

Your ending they are always so swift to call,

one school goes back and it's officially Fall,

pumpkin pie quick to to the oven,

a thousand witches beckon their coven.

Be slow:

they'll be more sunny hurrahs, more bright highs,

it's not gone until it's gone this summer in the sky.

And it never leaves without saying goodbye.

It’s not the dank, damp, grey days.
It’s not the drizzle that seeps through the seams of my coat.
It’s not the dark mornings.
It’s not the dark evenings.

It’s the crisp air of an early morning frost.
It’s the spiders’ webs glistening with frozen dew.
It’s the shades and hues as the leaves turn golden.
It’s the peace and quiet as nature settles down for her long sleep.