Haunted Days

These are haunted days;
Bonfire-scented autumn days.
Someone's slipped away,
And someone's thoughts are all in one place.

These are haunted days;
The year is facing its old age.
I met her from work at three to see her home
So she could catch some sleep.

Everything's a little
Everything's a little - thrown.
I watched her cry for someone I didn't know.

You can sense it on the wind,
The wind that sets the trees to singing –
Hear them whispering how someone's gone,
Someone's missing.

These are haunted days,
Sad and golden, underplayed.
I met her on Oxford Street to see her home
So she could catch some sleep.

These are haunted days;
Bonfire-scented autumn days.
You can't fix everything that breaks,
And someone's thoughts are all in one place.