Every autumn I wait

For the wind of my childhood to return.

Unannounced arrival, Rooted in treetops, Ebbing and flowing, Falling, With each leaf, Chimes responding, Drips of honey, Suspended, Singing farewell to summer. A silent message, Of fervor, Refuge, Embers of the past, Reignited, Glowing in a distant window.

- S. Teare