At The Meeting Place

She walks along the long and dusty path,
Her hand has written messages across all in ink,
With a small jacket on and short brown hair,
Leaves fall and float around her everywhere.

There's golden sunlight all around,
The trees are filled with singing birds,
This is the first time I saw her-and when she got
Sick on the bus that day-fell in love with her.

All of a sudden a boy blocks her way, brown hair
Covering his eyes like dark thick mats,
He wants to know if she's alright like a stranger,
But she still tries to continue down the path.

I still think of that day so many years ago,
My mind stuck on grass green parks and
The colorful days of Autumn...