I relish in their lights
this night of chill.
Oliver Schroer is reverberating
through my home
capturing the wonderment
of celestial life.
I miss our missives,
as I do so many lost friends
but the chorus of his violin
from an ancient sanctuary
provides me solace...
Shall we dance
you and I.
I see your
sideways glances
when we pass.
With lowered eyes,
are you reflecting
when we share
thoughts of life;
are you reflecting
on what could be
a peaceful life;
are you reflecting
on the now, the future,
our lives together.
You’ve made
your intentions known
and yet I waver,
are they for me
or an excuse
validating your
leaving someone else
for reasons known
only to yourself.
Shall we dance
you and I,
Shall we dance...
autumns coronation has begun
as maple, walnut and oak
are crowned in gold, rubies and copper;
their patchwork cloaks are
donning slowly, the richness
of summer emerald greens
surrender to the alchemy of autumn,
exploding into vermilion, umber and citrine
completing their transformation
before they fade, fall and form
into botanical skeletons
before the freeze of winter
paints its dismal landscape
