Poetry Entry #9: Falling



This is a season of bashful trees and cheeky blushes.
The sun soaks me with old light as I think of you
and melt like caramel in sweet apple cider.

I sink into leaves and twigs, down through the earth
and through the burrows of furry fellows ready for sleep.

Down here, I think about searching your eyes when
you aren’t looking, dipping deep in those barrels
and bobbing up for air.

There are no spring blossoms,
but it’s warm, like this tree’s final sweater,
ready to be cast off and laid on the floor.

I shiver, the last thread┬ápulling away…




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s