With the last leaf of fall I reminisce that what's not with me anymore. In the yellow of the sky and the mist of grass I find comfort in the rawness that fills me. 

With flashes of familiarity on an August afternoon, I stare at the orange leaves falling across the street. The greens have changed yet the feeling remains of a place I can no longer visit.

I know I see it, I don't know how to reach it yet a gentle wind brushes my euphoric face.