by Joy Umoekpo
As the leaves fall and a chill creeps in,
twilight makes an early appearance.
Smiles litter online profiles and pairs form
as the season changes once more.
He sneaks into my mind again as I overlook the lake.
Years have passed,
yet the air feels colder this time around.
Where is he now?
Whose hand is he holding?
A frosty sigh leaves my lips
and fills the space in front of me.
I try to focus on the lake,
but I only see his brown curls and green eyes
in the reflection beside me,
his arm wrapped around my waist,
a hand in my hair.
Ripples blur the image as kids skip rocks
across the lake’s surface,
and I’m alone again.
My chest contracts and I walk away,
my eyes fixed on withering tree branches.
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