Little by little like the wild colours of Fall….your love leaves me.
Ah but there is always that last storm
The one that takes too much at once
And I am left bare and skeletal
A dark frame against a pale grey light.
Soon though. Very soon
There will be a budding and a bloom
No room for curled up love , the one that rots in the grass where once our bodies lay entwined.
No soon there will be renewal
And you won’t recognise this frame
I will be full to brim. Lush with new love
While you will disappear under Spring’s new life.
Mulch for the life that you left.