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Autumn Death
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Unpublished pieces Trees deceptive again.
Leaves of similar design
flutter
like butterflies
to the ground.
We pick one up.
Together we examine
its veins.
In reviewing the leaf
we examine
our togetherness.
Perceptions altered by
the shifting waves
of autumn death.
We are like the leaves.
Falling like dashed desires
against the
callous uncertainty
of the ground.
Trees stand like sentinels
of silent witnesses
to the browning
foliage of us.
For just one second I
imagine
it is summer again.
Leaves are on the trees.
Shimmering green
in the bright hope
of sunlit days.
It is an illusion.
Walking like an empty bottle
on the ground, covered in leaves.
Autumn death, that is our mantra.
