Whimsy

Midweek melody
Of leaf fall
And darkening
Afternoons,
That fall
Into night slip,
Where memory
And dream
Mingle into
Scent and softness.

As the poet recalls
In pages long ago
"Never to recapture
That first careless rapture"
When you first
Let fall your tears
Upon my tie
And I with casual
Deftness
Slipped from your arms
To pursue
An alternative
Attraction.

Oh how the past
Can punctuate
Our foolishness
With but a semi-colon.

JL Oct 17 11:50