Past Any Season
Autumn is everything-colored
except black and white,
magenta, dark purple,
orange and red and gold,
every shade ever seen in gardens
If we were leaves
would we love each other
far past youthful green
into the fallen months
of rusty brown?
Would we remember each other
long after we lay
on mossy ground,
slowly darkening
into earth again?
Every autumn I picture you
playing in the fallen leaf piles,
throwing them sky high
and laughing
past any season
Sweet! xoxo
Andie