The world seems to wake up
when orange settles in.

It becomes a flurry of scarves,
a parade of leaves
that dance on breezes;
an excuse for people to
stand closer
hold hands
share coats and gloves;
a month of ground up beans,
flavoured for an added zest

The world slowly weighs down
when we approach early sunsets.

It holds the remembrance of
‘growing old’ in the air;
the feeling of weariness
that comes with the end;
the heaviness of those
remembering friends, loves
or their own scars.

The world slowly becomes quiet,
a soft murmur of acceptance
tinged in orange, pink, red
sometime in October.

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