Autumn Unleaving

I’m a keen observer

of what has been and what is now

I see the cracks in the bricks of loving time

the moss crawling over our words

the sweet scents have gone to burning brown leaves

and our blossom of sighs turn dry to crumble.

Each time has its place in lost gray days 

places I can never return

the worn path is grown over with thick weeds of neglect 

in this bitter season

I’m never to find my way again,

for the vines creep and cover

your ripe green door.

The metal gates remain locked 

beyond I see hope brim

a golden rim of sunlight singeing yellow

on my horizon.

Nevermore.

Face pressed up between cold metal bars

touching the brick walls of our loving time

standing in the moss of our words

smelling leaves burn

gazing at before.

Again and again I do it

sighing once more

though never to find

your ripe green door.