Dead leaves on the eve of fall,
wolves howl and the wind calls
of their forlorn love.
Separated by forgotten reasons,
both sit and watch the changing seasons
blurring around them.
Wishes granted, but none on time,
always stuck in a rhythm or a rhyme
of sorry, not yet.
Unsure of their love’s fate,
continuously forced to sit and wait
for answers that never seem to come.
Both unhappy, unfulfilled, aching,
for the only touch to mend their breaking
unstable, wanting hearts.
Someday soon, will answers arrive
so both no longer remain deprived
able to move forward
One step at a time…?