leaves of October

When you walk outside in the month of October, you can see the silhouette of trees dancing as the wind bends the branches until they give up their leaves. I shriek in the night when I hear how loud it howls against the windowpane. I never did like the wind, it always comes uninvited like a party guest who yells over the music and shatters the glass which once held too much sugar. I forgive it only when I am warm from sleep or singing but once morning returns, I wish it away.

It soon will be time to take the sage and bees balm into the house. We've had a healthy autumn so far — sunlight, Chinook air, warm tea can wait for winter, the earth sending out invitations, no sweater necessary, the flowers still in bloom, that kind of autumn. Every salty tear I wept at summers end has been dried by the bounty of orange oak trees, golden light and the birds eating leftover berries. I only wish to be summer bound when the wind comes. At night, I pull a pillow over my head and tug at C's arm to hold me closer as if we're fireflies in a tiny jar.

The leaves of October twine and twist underneath a silvery moon while sleeping with the one I love quiets the wind and turns its howling into music. I don't ever want to return to the autumn's where I slept alone. 

 

outfit details: Value Village vintage dress, Blowfish Shoes heels, Crown & Glory floral headband, Teja Jamilla on etsy fawn and mushroom tights