She looked out her kitchen window at the tall oaks, cedars, and pines. Leaves were falling. Backyard needed a good raking.

Slowly the leaves danced on air ’til they hit the ground. Leaves of yellow, gold, red, rust all waltzed to the sounds of nature; a dog’s bark, cat’s meow, the noise of children singing and laughing. She knew that sound, that orchestral sound. Knew it from when she was a kid. Knew it as an adult; Autumn’s songs never left her soul.

It happened each year at this time. Late October brought forth memories. Thoughts of love filled her head. While the whole earth was dying, she was thinking of love.

The short,stout, woman dreamt of her first kiss. Maybe this would be the year, she thought. Maybe. A forty year old woman who’d never been kissed. She felt embarrassed.

There were times in high school when she thought of being kissed, but, it never happened. They were merely cruel jokes played on her throughout the years. Boys, who’d never thought of her would send letters saying to meet them under the football bleachers after school and then never show up. This went on for years.

So, on this night in the Fall, she walked to the bleachers and sat underneath, waiting for a kiss. The young woman had no courters, no suitors had sent her notes. She just went there on her own, hoping, for one kiss.

Sitting there on the wet dewy grass, she began to pick at weeds that were dying as high school sweethearts proved their love to one another. She noticed them, and did not say a word. The grown woman just picked at weeds, while the hazy moon shined in the evening sky.

Once again she walked home quiet like in high school. One of these days, she mumbled. One of these days. I’ll be kissed too.