Lost Joys

On this first day of fall, I wander through time,

sidewalks are marked, but it’s not quite a crime.

Faded outlines linger where laughter once bloomed,

a bittersweet testament to joy now entombed.

I trace those small forms where kids used to play,

jump ropes and bicycle wheels whisked dreams away.

The crunch of the leaves, they whisper a tune,

I sink to the ground, feel the warmth of the noon.

Benches are empty, the echoes fall flat,

a world left behind in a soft velvet hat.

I sit there in silence, the weight of what's lost,

in shadows of children, where joy pays its cost.