Sepia,
the last of the colors,
a dull revelry,
a thrumming, just beneath the surface,
heralds the dormant outdoors.
I see you in the blue and lavender shadows,
your hips swaying like dark wheat in a gentle breeze.
Your smile is shy and happy,
your lips, all the shades of honey.
I bend to sip them from your mouth,
and find the bittersweet taste of summer’s end
on the tip of your tongue,
and lose myself in sweet dreams
and bitter time.
And there is time to savor.
As the last leaves
break free to fall like spent stars
from their heavenly sockets,
I dream an autumn love.
Beyond Panic 