Before the wind, there was only Lucinda.
On still, sultry days, heliotrope would tickle his nostrils while he searched the field beyond Mercertown Road: veiled lavender sweetness that said she remembered.
Then the wind came and with it countless others. Carried to the horizon in a potpourri of souls, she left him for the second time.
2 thoughts on “Autumn”
Beautiful, with vivid imagery and impactful statement of loss.
A marvelous romantic story. Love it.