Fall

We lazed in the sun, a small town square; I ate a croissant while we were there; she had a coffee, and I, a tea. I glanced at her, and then she at me. Somewhere in France, not sure even where; Sunday, people coming from prayer. We thought to ourselves, “what do you see?” “Is this quite how you thought it would be?” Under a hat, a lock of gray hair; slight tarnish on the silverware. A leaf slow, gently fell from a tree and landed softly upon your knee; its rusty fall red, a scar to wear. We sit still awhile; we look, we stare; “I so love you still,” you say to me, “I you too, as it should always be.” The Way We Look Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker Date wrote: 11th December 2022