last year at the riverside

last year i was with you,
at the riverside where
trees were golden-yellow
and flaky brown.
we were dressed in
Japanese, flowery
gowns.

you draped your
scarlet, lily petalled
kimono across the
autumn leaf-blanketed
ground, laughing as
we talked.

we talked about so
many things:
your life,
your plans,
my life,
my plans,
but it wasn’t—
no—no time would
be ever enough
to spend with you.

now, this fall,
i stand here,
rested against a
black railing and
wondering where you've gone,
while standing under
the golden-brown
leaves all over
again.

the gushes of air that
come out breezes
the weather has changed—
the sky hasn't,
neither have the autumn leaves,
but everything has changed,
because here i stand alone.

don’t you know i
miss you?