The Season Of Maple

By Hiba Tasneem

It is the season of maple.

Somewhere golden, somewhere crimson.

With a concerned smile and loving eyes.

As far as these eyes see only you shivering beside me.

With your hands in my pocket, with a matching scarf and the same locket.

As we keep walking down the street

Crumbling the snow beneath our feet.

It’s a nostalgic sight of a breaking twilight.

I wish this will last forever but we still have a long way together.

By Hiba Tasneem