Autumn Is Here: BY CINDY

The trees are weeping an amber glow across the once emerald atmosphere.
The birds are nowhere to be seen but if you listen carefully they sing a solemn melody as the temperature drops sneakily and the wind is whispering,
autumn is here…
It is not unlike a dream would be.
I am pirouetting over a field of fallen leaves as all the clouds overhead recede
further into a hole in the atmosphere, chasing after them, trying to imprison them
within a butterfly net, giving up in vain.
I retire to a coffee shop downtown where all the people speak in fake british accents and wear outrageous hats.
A song plays from my iced mocha and i think i can see through the two-way mirror reflecting society's image outside and i think i can see into their minds
but i'm really just looking into my drink listening to that song about love and the leaves are
falling,
falling,
falling…
while the hole in the atmosphere slowly sucks me into oblivion and I wonder if I could be dreaming
because the trees are outside weeping
but they are my tears on the tablecloth.