harvest time

The grass is brown and dying, fires are blazing across mountaintops, a layer of brown crawls over the sky... Signs that the soothing rain of autumn is coming, and our world is preparing itself for new growth, It's time to reap the fruit of summer, to make sure that new seeds are sowed.


I turn around, pushing my back against her warmth and I lay there without any expectation that she will wrap her arms around me; only hope. And I think that is the beautiful helplessness of love.