Late October

Windy morning, rustling leaves

You reach for my hand and place it inside the warmth of your glove

For a moment, I feel you hesitate

And I, suddenly afraid

Remember that you do not belong to me

You lean over to whisper

The warmth of your breath

Tickles, trickles,

Down the length of my spine

And I giggle… a bit madly

Without a thought to the erratic winter ahead

Then, on a spur

As if to serenade us

Dozens, hundreds, thousands of leaves

Begin to float, flutter,

A storm of chromatic rhythm

Freewheeling… dancing… all around us

Intoxicated

We stand in stillness, drowning in petals

Our hearts whipping in the wild wind

I know how they feel… the October leaves

I am also consumed, touched, inspired

By your slick, glossy mystery

I nuzzle in closer

To rest my girlish hopes on your schoolboy reveries

I want to sparkle for you

I want to fall for you

Just as they do.