A Dreary Autumn’s Evening-Ken Figurski  

My dirt-stained boots splash in the rainwater, against small puddles of mud spread against the concrete path. Wilting leaves cover the grass and more crunch against my feet. Nothing remains on the trees above my head, their naked branches reaching up to the clouds. The howling wind wispers dark words into my ears.  Looking down, a version of myself stares back at me. Weakly, I raise one foot forward, one at a time.