There is a single leaf flying <br />in this my autumn gloaming, <br />a leaf fluttering light <br />as if being orchestrated <br />by your words in flight <br />rushing to my inner ear; <br />'I have fallen in love <br />with another you said.' <br /> <br />My leaf stammered, <br />swaying in its downward flight <br />unable to remount the tree, <br />terrified to crash the ground <br />suspended forever there <br />as was also true of your words; <br />better to not reach my inner ear <br />better to not have my leaf touch down dead. <br /> <br />Between us all these years <br />neither war, nor peace; <br />we existed in the troubled middle ground <br />purgatoried, unsensed, fluttering, leaf bound <br />frozen between tree and ground. <br /> <br />Now you have burned our tree down- <br />lit the leaf and made it flame- <br />and pulled from under us the very ground. <br /> <br />No matter the dead leaves, the burning tree <br />no matter the absent ground <br />these things will <br />in turn return <br />for the seasons never-end. <br /> <br />Therefore, I shall take my sip of sorrow <br />sipped slowly from my Flask of Time <br />and await <br />the Spring.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-flask-of-time/
