the quarter evening stretches in
shadows long,
the wind whispers quietly
a gentle caress over flickering fire across roadside
and i look for you in the spaces between.
the chill wraps around me, a familiar blanket.
i moves through whimsical laughters,
shifting under whimpering street lamps,
attempting to extend the aged joints of moments, once treasured.
the twilight haze,
perspiring under the gaze of the constant-changing seasons,
touches the fleeting joys in
the world outside drifting in shades of gray.
still, i hold the fragrance
old and moulding like fallen brown leaves stumbling from wind,
its fraying edges; a reminder of warmth,
a promise of another spring.
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