against the autumn air
twisting the long stems of your hand
like a bouquet
with a great golden leaf
blooming
bending gently to the ground
under the weight of its own glory
With a snap it crumbles
and you laughing toss
it into the careless air
slits of gold to fall across your feet
your fingers pulled back
against your palm
like a seed awaiting spring
hidden for winter cold
I picture the warmth
stretching it out
with my hand like the sun
leading your fingers to grow like roots
deeply coiled in my own
Gold on silver
soft and strong
and we will watch the spring bloom
without fear of winter
a deep tree with strong roots
dropping its great gold glory
for others to pick up
and grow into
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