Jonathan Bellmann

The airy chill, the somber still that autumn brings;
That musty smell from raking leaves
As you scratch your nose and loudly sneeze;
The scent of burnt wood lingers with the breeze,
You pause to remember happier things.
Feelings reminisce with a sigh or as gentle as a tear
That flows when you cry, the faces of friends
Huddled around a campfire's light
Of laughter so near to quench the fear of night.