• Lonely Girl,  poetry,  writing

    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


    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.