Written-Imagination

As I stare in the distance, hoping the gentle crackle of leaves will signal your approach and that the soft fall of gold will be replaced by your touch, I experience no such reprieve Unawakened by your presence the absence of sound haunts my heart. It longs to hum to the tone of your voice, but only the sound of crimson leaves rustling through the wind, fill the silence The hues of red dance across the ground like your fingers once caressed my skin; dotted across the cracks, life appears where once there was none Untouched, the bare branches sway to the rhythm of today. No longer are they comforted by the green of yesterday; expose