Like sinuous leaves, twirling one-by-one
Down toward the earth’s floor,
He caught her, as her mind’s symmetry aborted
Amid the boundless exchanged pleasantries of chortles and verses,
Muffling the surrounding shrill of base and treble,
Leaving nothing but a soft pink noise and the rapid girdle
Of mottled images—as it seemed;
An incomplete lucid dream
Discerning the self. But within a blink
The eye exposed, in the same place they still stand,
Gazing, and petting. Only now
Where the leaves once landed
hoarfrost shrouds the grass.
It is December.
Photo credits- pinterest