Lying dormant with it's sleepy memories,
Profound nostalgia burns in the bonfire.
Memories rise and ride on autumn wind,
Their heavy, smokey smell is addictive.
I inhale, try to detect and relive them.
I exhale, frustrated at having failed.
The fog that has descended upon my mind
Is permanent, solid, like the shadow of a conifer.
Why are my heartstrings plucked
Like leaves off trees, when autumn creeps?
My own memories have fallen victim
To autumnal decay.