Galit Breen is a writer freezing in Minnesota. On any given day she can be found juggling 3 children, 1 husband, 1 puggle, and 1 laptop. Visit her blog.
Footsteps Through Fall
By Galit Breen
Leaves crinkle beneath my feet.
Air crisps against my cheeks.
Bonfire smoke dances towards my heart.
I glimpse splashes of color and they paint this moment in.
Dir the color of the perfect cup of coffee is kissed with golden yellows, bright reds, shocking oranges.
Small sneakered footprints carve my path, lead my way.
Etched deep inside, I know that the word “small” doesn’t fit anymore.
I will this ache out, let my heartstrings in.
Strong steps, determined mouths, helping hands.
Brody slips, Kayli steadies him.
“Are you okay, Brods?” Chloe’s voice lilts in the breeze.
I’m warmed over–twice.
An autumn canvas of life’s colors.
A lovely picture.