Foliage



Between the trees

In summer

Waiting for autumn

With my eyes inward



I see and lose simultaneously

The blur of sky and clouds

The flight of the grey bird

North and away



We barely touch

Selectively remember

And move forward

Though still in our individual selves



I am left confused

Looking up

Not knowing my own place

Again

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 08/27/2009 02:03AM by petersz.

Peter, I enjoyed the read here. Autumn is a time of reflection and perhaps introspection.


I think you're missing a word here:
"Though still in own individual selves"


Les

Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 08/27/2009 01:23AM by les712.

Les,

I would lose my mind if I had one.

Thanks for the catch.

Peter