The Daily Verse

October arrives on the amber feet of autumn, carrying a secret in its breath.

She comes softly, while summer loosens its sunlit hold on the earth.

She comes with leaves turning like old letters, suddenly revealing their true colours.

She comes scented with rain, ripe earth and the faint perfume of departure.

The trees blush before the cold, unaware of winter waiting beyond the blue.

 

The wind whispers of things forgotten, then wakes them gently from their sleep.

A russet leaf trembles, a small flame rehearsing its fall.

A hesitant sunlight spills honey over rooftops, hedges and hollow lanes.

October tastes of apples, nostalgia and a sadness almost sweet enough to savour.

October smells of distant fields, woodsmoke and mornings washed clean.

 

October touches the skin like a remembered hand, tender and transient.

October turns the ordinary into an astonishment of colour, fragrance and light.

What was buried in the heart rises like mist over a forgotten river.

What was lost returns briefly, wearing the delicate mask of possibility.

What was dormant stirs, and hope puts out one green shoot in the soul.

 

Winter waits beyond the garden gate, patient as an old storyteller.

Yet October laughs at his certainty, scattering gold beneath his waiting feet.

She wraps me in her paradox, a joyous melancholy, a luminous ache.

Perhaps this is why the falling leaf feels less like an ending than revelation.

October, beautiful deceiver, teaches me to see what becomes visible when things fall away.