Fall
Itâs gloomy. The air is silent. No more needless air conditioners. Stores smell like cinnamon and pumpkins are available out front. Lamps are dim. Candles are brighter. Robes trump shorts. Blankets on the couch are first come first serve. Baby is warm and her nose is stuffy. Crockpots cook chicken, rice, and carrots. Kisses are again romantic. Old sprinkles wait on the window. Ms. Windowsill is beginning to freeze. The spiders are in corners taking their breaks. Crickets are sleeping. The dog requests âunder the coversâ and access is granted. Hair isnât frizzy. Showers are no longer too hot. Counters are clean. Closets are messy. Phone calls are longer. TV presents movie after movie. Books and magazines sigh in relief. Stranger. Whatâs that? âI baked you some cookies.â Coffee is dripping. Tissue boxes are nestled. Naps. The washer is hardworking, and the dryer is kind. Trains send their warnings easy in thin air. Wind chimes begin dancing - there must be a breeze. Sweater or jacket? Just hand me one, doesnât matter, theyâll both work. My keys are cold and hard. Love you, too.
About the Author
C. Cimmone (she/her) is an author and comic from Texas.