Autumn is a teasing vixen, toying with me just as she jangles her clanking bracelets. Like a vision conjured from my deepest longings, she appeared Thursday night. She was brisk, cold even, but that only enhanced her charm in a sea of stale warmth. She enchanted me, bewitched me into dreaming of a shared future. But Monday brought only oppressive heat. My lovely weekend visitor has flown, leaving me sweaty, worn, and broken-hearted. And yet, I am not without hope. Rumor of her return is whispered among the trees. Besides, the beautiful Autumn is a creature of drama. Once she makes a sufficiently suspenseful entrance, she will wring every last moment from her act. She will bow for countless encores before relinquishing the stage to her sister. So, as I wipe the salty beads from my brow, I await her refreshment.
*I wrote that when I was tired and feeling mischievous*
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment