ode to november

autumn warmth

The chilled breath of autumn leaving my mouth, taking flight. It invites the tendrils of hot chocolate to waft in my mind. Every year it feels the same. Lamenting over summer’s departure and dreading winter’s darkness. But every year there’s another chapter. Scribbles etched into the fall blanket, apparent only to me. I always find seasonal confusion relieved with you. The sense of renewal bringing comfort, reminiscent of a scarf’s solace. For that I raise a toast.