as we walk

the ageless yellow of leaves
    that hang, so far, you can't touch them
   till they fall
            heavy with wonder

  drifting down
    to be forgotten
 by freshly fallen snow
   and air
  that leaves you breathless

  and finally
           spring comes
           confused
           soft
           (and gentle):
       like footsteps
         clumsily drawn
         beneath outstretched arms
         cupping glasses of wine

     then june
        cloaks the orange of sunsets
            as days last
      while flat arcs
       of rubber heels
       collapse
       beneath weightless gravity

    ...as we walk...

    and laughter
      remembers...
     to forget