october breath

October breathes a silver chill,

a hush that bids the earth be still;

leaves crackle soft beneath our tread,

like whispered things we’ve left unsaid.

The amber wind, the fading light,

lace evening’s edge with fragile might;

and something hidden, drawing near,

took root within the turning year.

Now every spark of gold that falls

wanders through quiet orchard halls;

October’s breath will always be

the pause that changed the scenery.