"This autumn's different from the rest..."

This autumn’s different from the rest, - more golden-mouthed -

I’m charting out my life with zest from north to south.

The sun’s dispersed in orange leaves and cloaked the ground

I smile to myself as if - I’m lost and found.

The days are growing short, - you’ll soon arrive here.

I wish that you could send a word that you’re alright there.

I think about you at night. Somehow I'm certain,

If not my voice, then all I write is overheard there.