And there Autumn met me
with the loveliest of winds;
but a heart blown asunder
as her leaves would fall again.

She mourned like a mother
who may lose her only child.
So I looked past grand color,
to see grief in her raw wild.

The moon rose like a wizened soul,
as I swam into Autumn’s stream,
a whirlwind of warm memories
and soon-stolen wishes and dreams.

I spoke kind words that did little
to ease her deep growing beast.
She even trembled with vestiges
of leaf prints near her knees.

And so, I did the only thing
a human could truly do.
I bowed with grace before her,
and kept vigil through and through.

With bravery, Autumn finally let go . . .
as our tears shook and echoed
into winter’s bleary woe.

Time moved on as it has the want and will,
past winter, spring, and summer still;
and again, I greeted Autumn.

She smiled when she saw me,
and bowed to me with grace;
the human that saw fit to stay
in grief’s lonely darkened space.

I walked closer to divine Autumn,
the wisest mother of them all,
to notice lines and creases softer,
at peace with her destined fall.

Once more, sweet leaves moved from her
and, yes, she blustered and cried.
But, in the end, she whispered to me,
Love branches immortal, never to die.