There is a feeling in the air
when fall is near.
Something I’ve felt since I was a child,
deep in my core,
a familiarity.
The passage of time
moves differently
when the leaves fall
In a spectrum of orange hues.
The air grows crisp
like Granny Smith apples,
sliced for an afternoon pie.
The winds smell of mulling spice
and magic dances upon them.
It’s a season of trickery
and devious delights.
When one costumed night,
we can all dance with our inner child again.
It may not be fall yet, but my love of this season spawned this mid-spring. Can you tell I long for cider and spooky movie season?
About the Creator
Josey Pickering
Autistic, non-binary, queer horror nerd with a lot to say.
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