in a brief burst
of fiery red and gold
we burned….
our flame
inextinguishable
in Autumn’s blasting
wind song
as it whooshed
past our ears with barely
a tickle
ripe as apples
sweetened by the sun
we bit into the luscious fruit
of seasonal love
but fires
do not last and winter must come
yet, for that fleeting moment
we were gloriously
young
©Neetu Malik
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