The Fall

I like the way the leaves scurry after me,
little fairy feet I think,
as they stay just a step behind,
whispering conspiratorially with the wind.
I wish I could tell you about them,
make you smile and shake your head at my nonsense.
Instead I watch my sister’s cat stalk them.
He doesn’t tolerate invisible little people.

I like that the wind has a voice,
I listen to it, but there seems to be no reason for its shouts,
Still some part of my mind must recognize its language,
how else could its words move me to tears?

I like that the chilled air mingles with the warmth of the sun,
as if winter and summer love fall as much as I do.
Autumn makes me feel on the cusp,
of something good, or something to fear, I don’t know yet.

I like that I met you before winter came,,
From the branches of your fingers, I fell
There is no spring for us,
but I trail after you on little fairy feet.
You step past me,
anticipating the green things that will nestle in the creases of your palm
you don’t tolerate ghosts.