As Leaves fall all Around
Dry, rustling leaves fall all around
and follow merrily as she cartwheels
across the speckled lawn.
My palette knife in fevered haste
applies rich shades of cinnamon
and gold to the pristine canvas
in dread that fading memory
will evermore delete this
precious golden scene.
My train of thought
sparked by subliminal messages,
recalls an October morning -
was that forty years ago?
There, clear as day, her grandmamma
stands beneath a crimson maple tree
and wins my heart when, demurely
in her russet gown she poses for me
as leaves fall all around her.
By CATSEYES
© 2008 CATSEYES
(All rights reserved)
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