There is a single leaf flying

in this my autumn gloaming,

a leaf fluttering light

as if being orchestrated

by your words in flight

rushing to my inner ear;

'I have fallen in love

with another" you said.

My leaf stammered,

swaying in its downward flight

unable to remount the tree,

terrified to crash the ground

suspended forever there

as was also true of your words;

better to not reach my inner ear

better to not have my leaf touch down dead.

Between us all these years

neither war, nor peace;

we existed in the troubled middle ground

purgatoried, unsensed, fluttering, leaf bound

frozen between tree and ground.

Now you have burned our tree down-

lit the leaf and made it flame-

and pulled from under us the very ground.

No matter the dead leaves, the burning tree

no matter the absent ground

these things will

in turn return

for the seasons never-end.

Therefore, I shall take my sip of sorrow

sipped slowly from my Flask of Time

and await

the Spring's return.