Let's take

our leaves


and sail away

from the

entwined limbs

of a distant love.

The warm

avenues of Paris

are filled with

the windblown

remnants of

summer's fall.

A chill

wind blows

through my soul.

The sun is

rapidly setting

on the multi-colored


and pastel smiles

shared by two.

The drab starkness

of what remains

reaches outward

for new horizons.

There will

be fresh buds

of love

come spring,

bursting out with

life's essence

in your

saddened heart.

Alas, my mind

has wandered,


strain to follow

to those old familiar

places where the dying

of the season

gently whispers--

"Everybody goes home in October."





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Comments 1 comment

seasoning 7 years ago

ha ha , i am loving your work

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