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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.
