Under stiletto heels

Leaves of the dying season

crackle underfoot.

Along this road,

the foliage sways,

shrivelling as it decays.

It can be heard at a distance

the falling of the world.

Every heart broken

every lie being spoken,

and heaviness crushing all.

And during this season

Dreams, I can feel,

Are fading away.

Every action leading to an end,

a conclusion

lacking success or content.

What repetitiveness,

what a mundane life.

Hardly depressing,

only simply lacking.

And, in exhaled breath,

I expel it all,

and muster the courage instead

to prepare for another Fall.

-

For Chris,
whose words I often love.