|
By briana kassia Date: 2006 Sep 28 Comment on this Work [[2006.09.28.22.00.12110]] |
|
The last fading heat of the year blurring the sky between us And the fuzzy smell of blackberries, all dusty and dark Purple-golden and ripe with juice Wine-scenting the afternoon Like a stain of history being rinsed clean In amber sunlight and the crisp air of autumn. There are no birds, no breeze, but the sky Breathes a quiet exhaltation Just to hold your hand is a perfect quiet bliss To walk beside you on these favoured paths To know the warmth of your body next to me To feel your heart beating same time as mine The same rhythms as our feet. We rustle and crunch all the leaves And smile, quietly giddy, together. Breathe with me In the fall, the brown and gold and russet Where once green was King Through the Indian summer, We make our own way Home |