You say you want to see fall from my perspective, 
and I laugh, thinking of every maple tree 
I’ve leaned against, 
hands stained by apples split open, 
the cider I’ve spilled on my sleeves. 

You stumbled into my life like fall,
the way the air sharpens,
the first breath caught in my lungs,
catching me off guard,
an ache I didn’t know I missed.

It begins like fire on the horizon, 
a blaze of orange and crimson, 
leaves spiraling down like lost memories, 
the wind’s sharp bite weaving through.