This is Autumn


We met over a conversation.

Pairs of eyes and a new silver day,

Fruits and piece of bread.

We waited to pay our bills

While orange leaves fell into gravity of time.

I didn’t want our gaze to end.

It was more than words and speech,

hundred flowers grew and died,

between change of the season.

Cities came and gone,

Blue sea turned gray and dark.

What could have happened if we remained in our seats?

Wind whispered her songs while your fingers reached out

To touch the curl of my hair.

We waited for our bills

In our designated seats, next to each other.


Autumn is here and I crave for the air on which

You wrote me a love poem before your departure.

It is a new city, a new autumn

Songs want to be written, new conversation to be born.

Final hours of green grasses and virgin lilies.

I am in a new seat, travelling in my dreams.

Old and new ones, they have a number and size.

Yours is burned in wine  and fire of our kiss.

No one else is sitting beside me now.

There is a sea inside my heart

Taking me deeper in desire for you.

Before this autumn ends in white snow and return of cold,

We will build a fire with oak-wood of our bodies and skin of moon.

We never got the bill, it was a complimentary treat of the owner.

We were lucky strangers, we fell in love before we leave our seats.

The beginning and end of a mirage

In lasting embrace of our joyful bodies,

rocking  between sea of love and palm trees.

I cannot find us again, real or in dream.

I travel light city to city,

Having conversation with strangers. Waiting for bills.

Autumn is my favorite season,

So much love for all the empty chairs beside mine.

I know you will come, before no dream is left,

and pay the bills.

I continue my drink, hopelessly gaze out

counting the falling orange leaves.

One… two… three…

Twenty million for your eyes

the rest disappeared in songs of wind.

What remains of this autumn is open horizons

And my wrecked heart.


Serena Devi