Autumn Spring

The time of year when growth and death
Together bloom in abject breath
When teardrops nourish rusted leaves
And fresh hope soars on withered wings
When silent innocence expires
And making camp means setting fire.
Yet scorched remains of ashen times
Are tender starts to second tries
That seem, in future memory,
The priceless griefs of autumn spring.

A poem about decisions, regrets, and letting go. ∎