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
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