Falling Leaves
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We sat at the courtyard,
shared a conversation,
had a few smokes.
It was nice and cool.
There were stars in the sky.
The air smelled a little dry.
I ashed on the ground, and noticed dry, yellowed leaves rustling about.
I wondered if a flame might ignite if I ashed my cherry at the very right spot.
And then I thought,
"Ah, fall's on its way."
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| Alberto Seveso |
And it was a comforting thought.
As the leaves fall, the temperature drops.
Bring out the knits and scarves and mittens and warm coats.
It's time to snuggle with a hot cup of cocoa in your hands.
It's time to wrap presents and write letters and cards to loved ones.
Winter.
The season of fog and rain.
There is nothing more peaceful than listening to the rain fall.
I would sit by the window,
with a lit cigarette in my hand,
watch the smoke interact with the cold air.
It is more still,
and you can observe it.
And it smells like dust settling on the asphalt.
And the sound drowns out all the noise in the world.
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