September’s Caress

I was born on the cusp of Summer, tumbling into the beauty of Autumn’s graceful touch.

My heart pumps with the warmth of its immediate sunset, my skin the coolness of its impending chill.
Enveloped in the fog’s everlasting embrace, I feel as though I can stay forever, content in this very moment.

Burning through my soul are the colors of the changing leaves, soon to be falling and torched, their smell unmistakable.
The sting of September, the promising caress of its solitude is something I wait for all year, a feeling incomparable to all others.

The sensation apple cider has on my senses, its warming effect, tells me I can be here forever, lying in the rolling hills of your impeccable property.
The chill that crawls across my skin seems to beckon, reassuring me that this is where I truly belong.

I was born on the cusp of Summer, tumbling into the beauty of Autumn’s graceful touch.

I can stay in this state of solitude and reassurance for the rest of my days; for I know that I am safe, the security of the most magnificent hiding place.
In this September cold I feel free; the lulling scent of the air in which I bask makes any and all problems nothing but distant memories.

…

Maybe in another life we can eat apple pie together, for this season is not the same without you.

© Copyright August 2016