The fall is here;
The wind has brought her
On his wings
Of golden leaves
/
And left her standing,
Cold and lonely,
At the door
Of summer;
/
The fall is here;
Her fingers out of clouds
Weave cobwebs
Of despair;
/
Was it by chance or not
That this unending year
Whom in her web she caught
Was me?
/
No, it was always
Meant to be
That a lonely fall
Would come for me,
/
Confused
Because my heart,
When it still beat,
Sounded and felt a little
/
Like her own when she
Stood, cold and lonely,
Knocking on the door
Of summer
Like the circular nature of the the poem.
Inception :). Thank you for reading, as always!