Autumn Dream

AUTUMN DREAM Looking up through the trees from where you sat; remembering our talking this and that; though distant from this place I choose to be, I wonder if you're so removed from me I cannot reach you from where I am at; the leaves, now mellowed, stems about to break, in scarlets, yellows, nature's big mistake, allowing one to see their silent death their flutterring to ground in autumn's breath, like plans we almost thought were ours to make; from where I am, to where I have to find, in reaching you, the touching of your mind; so you will think of me, through time, the thief, as not just one more broke and falling leaf; but one you might have loved, though left behind. and I will find a way, as I must do, that river through the sky to reaching you; absurd though it might sound, somehow, it seems, one cannot think of autumn without dreams, and dreams all have their way of coming true. © ron wilson arbuthnot aka vee Bdosa the doylestown poet