Autumn
Autumn
Autumn, a park, leaves, golden, rustle, grass, wind, pavement, benches, sunshine, a dogs bark. The cool air lifts her long curly hair as she walks beneath the trees. The pattern from the bright sun sifting through the barely covered tree’s falls about her. The leaves rustle as a gust of wind blows by, tossing her hair to her left, and her brown skirt flowing about her. She sits, the light spilling about her on the bench. The emerald grass and golden leaves surround her as the sound of children playing chimes in the background. She leans back, closing her eyes, the soft smell of roses float to her from her bouquet. She takes a deep breath, pulling in all the cold air, filling her lungs, filling her, and then lets it out with a sigh, releasing all the tension of the moment. The swirling leaves whip around her as she relaxes. The sunlight falling on her neck, warming her. She stands, finding a clearing, where the leaves are thick, and the sunlight heavy. She lies down, as the fallen leaves crinkle and crunch beneath her. The warmth of the moment covers her, shielding her from the coldness of the air. She remembers this warmth. The warmth of being wrapped in a big blanket, on a large, soft bed, with smooth pillows, her body relaxed. She can almost remember. The leaves swirl, as a butterfly lands upon her nose. She opens her eyes, they stare at each other. Each to caught up in the moment to let go and move on. She blinks, and the butterfly is gone. She sits up, and looks about; she can almost see him, moving away, slowly. She knows she could follow. She knows she wants to. Another deep breath, taking in the new, cold air, and releasing the warm tension. She looks up into the bright sun, as a leaf falls, sliding through the air towards her, landing in her palm. It is green in color, fading into orange. She stands, moving to the bench. She gathers her flowers, and begins to walk. A dog approaches. She kneels to pet it, and as she does it grabs a rose from her bouquet and runs off down the path. The butterfly passes her face, as she spins around, confused as to which was to run, to chase after the butterfly or to chase after the dog. She closes her eyes, breathing in the fresh cold air, and releasing the tension again. She drops the flowers, rose pedals falling about the path, as she races after the dog. They run off the path, across the fields, through the trees. The dog stops at the edge of a pond, drops the rose and runs off. She starts for the dog but stops, her attention drawn to the rose floating in the cool reflective water. She looks in, her reflection smiling back at her, she checks herself, unsure if she had been smiling. She turns, he kisses her. And summer begins.
Autumn, a park, leaves, golden, rustle, grass, wind, pavement, benches, sunshine, a dogs bark. The cool air lifts her long curly hair as she walks beneath the trees. The pattern from the bright sun sifting through the barely covered tree’s falls about her. The leaves rustle as a gust of wind blows by, tossing her hair to her left, and her brown skirt flowing about her. She sits, the light spilling about her on the bench. The emerald grass and golden leaves surround her as the sound of children playing chimes in the background. She leans back, closing her eyes, the soft smell of roses float to her from her bouquet. She takes a deep breath, pulling in all the cold air, filling her lungs, filling her, and then lets it out with a sigh, releasing all the tension of the moment. The swirling leaves whip around her as she relaxes. The sunlight falling on her neck, warming her. She stands, finding a clearing, where the leaves are thick, and the sunlight heavy. She lies down, as the fallen leaves crinkle and crunch beneath her. The warmth of the moment covers her, shielding her from the coldness of the air. She remembers this warmth. The warmth of being wrapped in a big blanket, on a large, soft bed, with smooth pillows, her body relaxed. She can almost remember. The leaves swirl, as a butterfly lands upon her nose. She opens her eyes, they stare at each other. Each to caught up in the moment to let go and move on. She blinks, and the butterfly is gone. She sits up, and looks about; she can almost see him, moving away, slowly. She knows she could follow. She knows she wants to. Another deep breath, taking in the new, cold air, and releasing the warm tension. She looks up into the bright sun, as a leaf falls, sliding through the air towards her, landing in her palm. It is green in color, fading into orange. She stands, moving to the bench. She gathers her flowers, and begins to walk. A dog approaches. She kneels to pet it, and as she does it grabs a rose from her bouquet and runs off down the path. The butterfly passes her face, as she spins around, confused as to which was to run, to chase after the butterfly or to chase after the dog. She closes her eyes, breathing in the fresh cold air, and releasing the tension again. She drops the flowers, rose pedals falling about the path, as she races after the dog. They run off the path, across the fields, through the trees. The dog stops at the edge of a pond, drops the rose and runs off. She starts for the dog but stops, her attention drawn to the rose floating in the cool reflective water. She looks in, her reflection smiling back at her, she checks herself, unsure if she had been smiling. She turns, he kisses her. And summer begins.