Her name is Charlotte…
I picture you as this intricate web that I will never
see, nor do I think I want to. With the rise of the sun I imagine you
glistening in the morning light, the silver threads dusted with morning dew. He
gazes up at this masterpiece as he once gazed upon me. A look of wonderment,
adoration and love; I don’t know what hurts more the fact that I know what you
will have or that I know now what I will not have again.
I was the autumn leaf that fell too far when the seasons
changed. I was there for a while, a small piece of beauty in a bigger picture,
but that picture like many things had to change seasons. Maybe if I had held on
a little tighter I could have made it through the winter, made it through so
that I could bloom again in the spring. Maybe you could have waited or I could
have been stronger. Maybe I could have done a lot of things but I am left with
what is and what has been.
I felt the summer sun during the hottest of days; the
bloom of flowers in the coming of spring and the ever-changing colours of life
in autumn, but the time was forever changing. I couldn’t hold on any longer and
as this once beautiful leaf fell from the tree it was swept up into a gust of
wind. From above I can see now that you are content gazing at her silver
threaded art, so I let the wind take me. As I move I can still hear the haunting
whisper of her name reverberating through my mind. Her name is Charlotte, you
say.
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