The sky is October blue,
but still not deep enough to match your eyes,
and the sun not bright enough
to warm my heart.

Cold winter winds wait to blow,
but for now all is fire.
Sunset colors on every tree,
floating in the air to land around me-
like the flowers that fell in our hair
last spring.

Petals so soft, they felt like white feathers,
and you picked every one out of my braid-
but I think you only bothered
so you could get close enough to steal those kisses.

As if you needed an excuse.

I have rainbow fragments in my hair now too,
but you're not here to take them out-
and it seems like the trees can feel my sorrow.
So they drop stained-glass leaves
instead of tears
and cry me all the way home.

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