Autumn
by MELISSA COOK
She reminds me of Autumn.
Leaves flushed in the
most beautiful ways,
cherry like her heart
– sweet and sometimes
sour, gold yet
always silver.
I’d paint her as a tree
artistic in all its
nature.
Bark fraying at her heels,
foliage dancing,
branches twirled into
a protective stance.
She is the August winds,
passionate in all she touches.
The calendar month
who would knock you down,
only to show
you can get back –
the zephyr that would
whisk away your umbrella
and let your skin
embrace the rain.
This is for the many times
she sat, speaking to me
of a half eaten moon and
how Autumn brings
-a certain death-
Yet to me
she shows winter fades
into spring days and
beauty will flourish
once again.