I

When green trees become orange

Leaves touch the ground, marking the beginning

Of nostalgic to nippy numbness.

II

When sweats turn to shivers,

The scarf and sweater become snugs, tells

Of our circle’s warmth love.

III

When pathways filled with fallen

Leaves becomes a slippery ground, slipping into

Forlorn becomes our comfort zone.

IV

From the cup of hot chocolate

To bourbon, drifting in an endless fog

of noema, we settle down.

V

When Halloween costumes turn to

Xmas socks, climbing from down days to

Thanksgiving, we grow in between.

VI

Look at the dark blue

Sky changing to pale….know that a

New you is to dawn.

VII

This is what orangy October-

November nights feel like, an 11:11 wish

And a forever yearning dream.