Autumn Our End

The leaves have begun to change
to their true colours already.
As if they knew
what the first of September meant.
And we can feel a change coming too
somewhere deep in our bones.
There is that hint of frost
in the crisp morning air.
The sweet songs of summer--
the days so bright and green,
ripe with promises no one intended to keep--
have faded away with the last painted sunsets.
Now suddenly it’s a blur of colour
as we dance for the last time;
the yellows, oranges and red red reds
blurring around us as we let go.
Autumn is a sober reminder,
as the leaves are blown from the branches
they once clinged to for life,
that we too must drift into darker days.
We both knew that this would never last
as we accept the brown leaves
crushed beneath our feet.
And resign to the faint whispers
of a cold-hearted winter.