These golden leaves crumble
As if to say
These streets will always bear,
These streets will always be
You and me.
Long as these trees grow,
These leaves die,
Rugged remnants of letting go
Caressing the soft spot of our heels
Before finally caving in.
They continued to crumble
As we raced back and forth
Leaving trails of our own tears,
Days marched to months and
Walked away.
It’s our time to crumble now
Like how these leaves did for us,
Like our pages read, yellowed and old
Like my memories of March before we said
Farewell.
