Maple Leaves Are Falling

By Khushi Tanganiya

Dear beloved, maple leaves are falling,

and I watch them drift down, one by one—

the way our love seems to be slipping, quietly,

from the branches of our once-bright world.

It started in the heart of winter,

when your love found me, wrapped in frost,

and you melted away the cold

with your warmth. I didn’t know how much I needed that heat

until I was wrapped in it,

until you made the bleakness beautiful.

Then spring arrived, and you—

you brought colors I’d never seen,

petals that stretched towards light,

and I bloomed, too…

Summer burned bright, but we stayed cool—

you and I, sipping on chilled moments,

finding shade under trees as old as time.

And when autumn came, we wandered,

crushing dried leaves beneath our feet,

our steps in rhythm, our hands entwined.

I thought we would walk that way forever,

through the gold-drenched days

of a season that always felt like home.

But now, dear love, the autumn air feels thin,

and the leaves are falling without you.

Winter approaches with icy hands;

I shiver in the absence of your fire.

The seasons turn, yet I alone must stand,

for warmth I crave, but only you inspire.

So let the winter winds cut deep—

I shall endure, as I must somehow,

yet I know, with each fallen leaf,

the seasons will never feel the same now.

By Khushi Tanganiya