This is your autumn

This is your autumn. Make it long. Stretch it thin. It’s bound to end tomorrow or today. Who knows when the yellow veined orange leaf, will touch the ground and disturb the dust, with its serrated edge? Walking men and crawling beasts, will step on it with a crunch. And the whistling air will carry the crumbs away: forever to rest somewhere.

This is your autumn. Search for that shade between brown and gold. Everywhere you go. In your coffees and in your chais. Sip on the sunset and sunrise. The hours of the day are being lost to the moon. While cold showers and the summer time madness, seem more and more uninviting every day.

This is your autumn. It’s the time of fall. The fall of leaves, and the fall of man. The man who you were has bloomed for too long. It’s time to rest and go underneath. Take your inventory and prepare for the bland chill. Stay inside, don’t come out. The icy breeze is the perfect backdrop for you to contemplate what kind of flower you’ll become when the next spring comes along.

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(PS: Will really appreciate some feedback on the right way to format this as in how to structure individual lines or the entire stanzas)