A Relic

Now I sit here with the relics of us.
Through the window a vision of autumn stares back at me.
Maples bow gracefully surrendering the leaves,
Of what we used to be.

Venturing outside into the piles of you and I,
Reflected in the bursts of color portraits I see,
The smile in your dancing eyes,
Now just a relic with me.

Soon we wither and crumble away,
Just memories of another time.
Souvenirs of what we once were,
Now an aging bouquet of wine.

Stepping through the fog drenched meadow,
Breathing in chowder like air.
Hoping to cut a path to you,
So I could just once more touch your hair.

Once upon a time you were mine.
Now the autumn wind cuts so deep.
You are now the only thing you can be,
Just a relic of the memories I keep.