Autumn came quickly this year.
The skies tinted themselves gray.
The children were suddenly
under three layers of clothing.
I noticed I drank hot tea
instead of iced coffee.
My summer dresses
were replaced by my favorite
grubby sweaters.
Scarves flew in formation
to guard my neck from the cold air.
My music playlist went
from rock and roll
to acoustic.
I promised this autumn,
sadness will not strike.
I promised to leave
summer paralysis
back on the beach.
I was not to fall off
like the yellow leaves
from the oak outside my dorm.
You met me on my way to lecture.
You were cowarding
under three layers of clothing,
eyes tinted gray.
You were giving off
the scent of exhaustion.
You said I looked as if I were out to conquer the world.
You said I was armed with my algebra textbook.
I said you looked in harmony with the weather.
You laughed.
I believe you meant to stab me with that laugh.
To remind me how in August
your blue eyes did not want me.
But it's October.
And I'm detached from the thirst for you.
Autumn came so quickly this year
it made you irrelevant.
October turned your blue eyes
a negligible splash of gray,
made you fall off
like a yellow leaf
from the oak outside my dorm,
blurred you with the backdrop.
Autumn came so quickly,
October painted my green summer eyes
a fiesty, burning yellow,
a flame in contrast to the tinted sky,
made my footsteps soothing
like an acoustic guitar,
made my lips taste like hot tea in my own mouth.
