anonymous untitled

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anonymous

on a cool autumn morning, with the leaves wet beneath my feet, no satisfying crunch today, the sparse forest wakes from a blue sleep to gleam in the golden morning light with shades of orange, and yellow, and red, and green

the smell of the pines, dark green as always, and a reminder of the holidays

the sound of the birds echoing through the thick trees, their chirps sending flashes of warm brown through my imagination.

then, the soft clap of a hoof, a dash of fur,

just brushing my fingertips, the feel of a coat so soft, the world’s troubles forgotten for even a moment, and replaced with that warmth, that smell, that sound, that feel, that orange-ish, that red-ish, that warm autumn brown.