Fall Back

The darkened clouds stretched across the sky hiding the sun from sight.
Rain fell, washing away all that was left of the sorrows left by man. 
Animals scurried to find a place to hide, 
wanting to keep warm and away from the cool autumn breeze that accompanied the evening downpour.


Trees swayed in the wind, their red golden leaves falling,
catching in the wind to be carried off to new places for the winter where they would wither, and in time, die and rot away.


Spring forward, and fall back they all say, talking of time. 
For many, those of whom involved with their precious lives, sitting, breathing, laughing and loving the days away,
there was no fall back, only a spring forward. 


Progression, as they would say, was harder than the those three words deemed more important to couples than intimate bonding.
The howl of the wind, 
the reciprocation of the cries of a lost lover.


The soft pitter-patter of the drops against the window, 
the everlasting illumination of the emotions embedded into the Earth; whispers carried by the wind to the ears of the fellow nobody, 
listening to the wails of sodden souls crashing down to the earth.


A shadowy hand ridden with dirt caresses the cheek of a ghostly face, 
pale cheeks lighting up like fire brighter than the star in the night sky.
Fingers grazed skin as eyes burned with the passion and light of a thousand suns,
burning brighter with every touch; hotter with every breath taken.
The thoughts blossomed like a tree, 
spreading out to reach every angle; to touch every surface it could stretch to.


The leaves fell, plummeting down to the soil, 
wretched with the previously spoiled leaves once fresh,
ready to fly and drift with the cold wind. 


Their hands reached, 
grasping onto the lives they dreamed of having, 
wished they owned, but could never touch with their calloused and hard-worked hands. 


It was taken from under their stuck up noses, 
caught up high in the clouds.
He fell, 
rocking down to the bottom of the earth as she took a step back. 


The gears in her head shifting, but never turning. 
Thoughts were foreign. 
The man was no longer behind her, 
whispering sweet nothings to be repeated to her significant other; a little white lie.


The apple of her eye, had become rotten; a mere fall back on her draw back from reality.