wildcat

We talk as the twilight turns to dark ash, 

sit out on the porch and catch fireflies in mason jars--

only for a second, then let them fly.

You tell me about friends I barely know, and I nod and smile at you,

"Like a diamond in the sk-"

in every child’s favorite season,

the scorching sun’s fiery tang

yields to the caress

of a zephyr’s gentle sway

my synesthetic realm

Fall.

Music for the eyes

A silent symphony

Of orange and red

Of yellow and brown

Releasing the land of its color in a million different ways

The tune is mesmerizing.

My friend mentioned she was sad to see the leaves drop. She said this as if the shedding oak trees were a disgrace to her. As if their nakedness wasn’t breathtaking in the eyes of an artist.

Even though

They tried their best

They were always left

At a crossroads.

Glancing in either direction

With a confused expression

And a typical look

Of regret.

Because times are rough