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Poem
Book in hand, I strode the path
in awesome Autumn splendor.
The warmth of the sun caressing my cheek,
while the cool breeze gently tickled 
goose bumps across my warm skin.
All around me the crepe paper litter
piled brilliance beneath each shedding tree
as if competing to see who's leaves
could out shine all of the others.
Piled yellow pillows gently fluttered
at the base of the Sweet Gum,
as the reaching arms of the Red Oak
spread an even layer of scarlet
across its enormous shadow.

I chose the sunny side of a flaming Sugar Maple
as my place of morning respite
with intent to finish the last pages of my novel.
Only a few painted leaves
left strokes of color on the green grassy
canvas beneath this wondrous tree.
As if it knew that the sleep of winter
would soon leave the world
cold and bare and so very alone,
it chose to dance a final dance
clutching tightly to each leaf
creating a crown of fire that burned radiance
against each gasp of the cool northern wind.

I watched the occasional passerby
stroll down the path,
some, small families
with noisy playful little ones,
playing in the leaves
kicking them into the air and laughing,
the occasional jogger,
and the loaners, like me.
They walked by slowly,
head hung low,
only occasionally glancing from side to side
to take in their beauteous surroundings.

Soon I was lost in my book,
a tale of fantasy and magic and love.
For a time my world seemed to disappear
into the paragraphs
and between the stiff new pages.
Then as I turned to the final page,
a gentle touch I felt upon my shoulder,
my attention redirected, I looked
and there lying on my jacket
was, perhaps, the most beautiful leaf
I have ever seen.
Perfect in shape with blushing crimson center
blending gently into golden fingers
with a striking deep scarlet lip,
it seemed a lovely offering from my silent host.
I lifted it gently and slowly twirled it between my fingers
amazed at its flawlessness.

"What a beautiful leaf," a voice broke my reverie.
Glancing up, before me I beheld
an astounding vision,
perfect in shape with blushing crimson cheeks
blending gently into breeze fingered golden hair
with striking deep scarlet lips.
"You should press it," she said.
The sun shining directly behind her
created an aura that reminded me
of an old master's painting.
A scene filled with heavenly creatures
glowing against the darkness
of the world's pain and suffering, 
Velaquez, perhaps, or El Greco.
She was my vision of an angel.

"You should press it in your book," she started again.
"That way you can keep it forever as a reminder
of such an exceptionally wonderful day."
She raised her hands and looked around her.
"Oh, yes I think I will.  Thank you."
She smiled and a brief silence ensued,
"Well, I'll leave you to your book," 
she said as she turned to walk away.
Not wanting the moment to end,
I fumbled for something to say.
"Oh, I just finished," I lied, "it.  The book, I mean."
She glanced back giggling but continued walking.
I quickly rose to my feet and inquired
in which direction she was going.
She pointed,
"Ah, the same way I'm headed," again not being totally honest. 
"May I accompany you?"
She nodded, and we walked,
the forgotten leaf still in my hand.
After talking for a while she reached for my book.
I asked if she had read it and she replied no.
Then she opened it to a blank page
and taking the leaf from me 
she placed it carefully between the sheets
and closed it tightly.
"A memory," she whispered
as she handed the book back and took my arm.

What a long, but elated stroll I had home that evening.

Like a train that is slow to leave the platform,
days crawled into weeks, weeks into months
until we found ourselves deep into winter.
She, reluctant to let her feelings show,
kept me at arms length,
me unashamedly falling head over heals for her.
Her overly protective friends
were cold and distant.
Each night we spent our time together,
laughing and dancing, 
until dawn found her breathing softly,
asleep in the warmth of my arms
where she would awaken,
all smiles and sass.

cont...


09/22/2018
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