One Night in Autumn

 /   /  By Emma Birches
Stone Soup Magazine
November/December 2008

By Rhiannon Grodnik

The wind
Is blowing strongly into my face.
It feels good.
I close my eyes and lie back
In the wet grass.

It is dark out and everyone else is sleeping.
Everyone but me.
It’s a nice feeling, being alone
Out here.

Ticktock.
I hear the sounds of my watch,
Every second, every minute.
Why does my watch have to remind
Me of the time passing?
It was nice to forget
About time.

Always people are so busy,
They never have time to think
About who they are
And who they want to be.

Am I really here, all alone, so close to my home,
Yet so far?
Is this a dream?
Everything that happened and everything that will happen
Rides away on the wind—
Up, up it goes
Past the moon and into infinity.

Dawn creeps in on me and I quietly let myself
In through the back door.
I tiptoe up the stairs into my bedroom—
Like a burglar in my own house.

Safe in my bed again,
I pretend I’m sleeping.
No one will ever guess where I was that autumn night—
But I will never forget it.

One Night in Autumn Rhiannon Grodnik

Rhiannon Grodnik, 12
San Francisco, California

About the Author

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