The End of September

Cracks in the sidewalk
of dreams
falling like leaves
littered
on the ground
a glimmer remains

The breaking dawn
brings a new beginning
by the time the moon reflects
it feels like the end of dreams
stripped bare
as a tree
standing
in cold despair

Birdsong fills the days
which are shorter
like life
without dreams
how to begin like
the rose burgeoning
through concrete

A tear trickles down
dying embers
of a flame
smothered
could it be the end?
She wondered

The end of September