I am Autumn

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I am Autumn, caught between the thorny hands of 

Summer and Winter,

Always changing, always evolving, 

Never quite being.

I am a transition;

Pieces of me flutter slowly to the ground in a cascade of red and orange hues, 

Hope, 

longing, 

despair, 

destruction. 

I sweep my leaves into a pile and 

Throw them in a bin. 

Discarded.

I am in pieces. 

Every day is different.

Will I be a warm memory of summer?

Or a shadow of cold nights to come?

The foggy blindness that crashes at the side of the road?

I neither have been 

Nor am 

Nor ever will be.

I am Autumn.