“Late Autumn”

It is late
The autumn wears away
Into winter mists

The leaves are crisp and thin
Brown, and worn down
Tattered and torn
Gathered on the ground
Remembering the pastel winds of yesterday’s sunrise
Assaulted by today’s cracking seed pods
The vivid colors of the marigolds
And, the pomegranate’s delicious shine
Memories of cinnamon, sharp in the wind
The sting of nutmeg in the bewitching darkness

I am intoxicated by
The blood red, screaming brilliance of life
And, don’t let go

It is late
So, kiss me, quick
In the forest’s shadow
Before I become an autumn leaf
The ravens do not have to know
Kiss me, quick
Before I become a memory

The trees are too busy to care
Self contained, restrained
By their own internal emotions and auras
Gossiping about feathers and the colors of the sky
About the weakening clouds
About the wickedness of winter
About how time takes all
How time will always have its way
But, snowflakes, too
Must have their season and their reason

So, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me
Kiss me quick and don’t let go
Kiss me in the forest’s shadow
The ravens do not have to know
Kiss me here and kiss me there
You can take me, anywhere
With the rising, autumn moon
Brown leaves, breezes, golden wine
With the colored marigolds
With pomegranate’s shine
You can take me, anywhere
Kiss me here and kiss me there
Yet, even though, you let me go
Your kisses I will keep, as mine
Forget-me-nots will bloom, in time
And, I will wear them in my hair