sweeter

On some nights
all things feel like
they have been
done before.

Tonight, if you listen closely
you can hear the night sky
breaking apart
as all young and beautiful
things do.

The apples
on the tree
taste sweeter
this year.
I know you have waited patiently
but that does not speed
my coming. I hear in my head
on the nights that I am quiet.
I cannot keep on like this.

The world is upside down.

I think he’s building a sandcastle
He says to me slyly
of our cat jumping
maniacally at the wall.

I smile, but do not feel it
too quick to anger,
out of control
and ever changing.

I comfort myself with minutia,
lists and a false sense of control.

You can curse
the weather man
but you cannot
change his
predicting.

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lifespan of a leaf

The leaves begin
so beautifully
green. Hanging from
branches lovingly
and intelligently placed
to do their work.

The colors change.
They hang still,
lovely in their aging.

Then the fall,
at first a delight,
piled and crunching
as we walk
secretly skipping steps
to hit one with a particularly
appetizing crunch.

But then the
rains come and
the leaves loose
their edges,
becoming only
a soggy mush
clinging to my boot.