Autumn Leaves (Goodbye Mum)

I watched him coming, forewarned and - so thought - prepared. I laughed at him; at his lack of guile. This sneak thief that visits all; so usually soundless - came tramping and hesitant like a young puppy through autumn leaves. Uninvited and unwanted but expected. I would be waiting; meet him ‘head on’, scorn him, cut him with oral scythe and see him on his way; his victory diminished if not cheated.

I watched him appear on the horizon with the sun at his back; a spot, a meaningless dot but I wondered at the length of his shadow. Not a fearful wonder; more comic, dismissed with a shrug. But as the mid-day orb rose to zenith, his shadow, did not diminish but continued to encroach. His sign came before him, like the wind before the storm; yet still I hoped the tempest might abate; if only a little longer.

Into the evening and daylights’ only star lay Moribund in late Octobers’ sky. Still, on he marched and seemed to rob already waning colours. The roses; once so fire-red aglow, now pallid imitations. Their shrunken petals; husks, no more to bloom. How I had loved them; but taken for granted. I watched as they withered. I held them to my lips; as though loves gentle caress, were enough to renew.

He arrived! Sixty minute lifetimes short of midnight, he claimed his conquest. I knelt before him, beaten, empty. I mocked him not! I laughed not! I realized in that instant, that there was no way to prepare for his coming. He needed not stealth nor camouflage. He cared little for tears, fears, scorn, love or hate. Even if he could be slowed or diverted, he would be back; somehow, somewhere, sometime.

Neither did he rush away; but lingered, not taunting; almost noble. He waited until I had conceded defeat; accepted the inevitable loss. He reminded that it was not personal; other flowers would be pulled from the stem; some would not see him coming; as had I. Some would be buds; allowed no time to reach full bloom; or spread their seed. As I felt him depart, I knew we would meet again. Into the windswept graveyard he melted, as the autumn leaves rustled.