Tag: Leaves

Hello Yellow

Hello Yellow, how good of you

to make an appearance before

Santa and his reindeer land.

I’ve missed you and your

colorful red and orange cousins,

your crunchy-yet-sunny

disposition, your earthly scent

as you hang, glide and tumble

to be collected by the magical

metallic click and swoosh of

yesterday’s backyard garden

rake. Didn’t we once gather

with your friends in a pile or

several for one last heavenly

autumnal celebration before

carols and flurries cascaded and

winter’s drifts and desolation

froze us in our tracks?

Now I remember us together,

surviving in a simpler, more

defined, orderly civilization.

You don’t need to worry.

As long as I am here, you

and your seasonal friends

will remain alive, constant,

distinguishable, and everlasting

… at least in my imagination.

On Our Path

She whispered November, though each step spoke September. No grey to brighten. No chill to thaw. Only cerulean skies. Proud pomegranates. Lonely lizards. Fading roses. Towering eucalyptus trees. Swaying suspension bridges.

In her Arizona embrace, we stood by banks of dusty monsoon memories. We crossed dry creek beds flowing with tears. We shielded our eyes from the sun. We moved ahead on our path. We listened to the language of lingering leaves.