02-10-2019, 04:16 AM
In autumn
Somewhere, you
are hailing a taxi,
catching a bus.
It’s eight in the morning,
and the splintered sunlight
from fiftieth storey
windows is falling on your light brown hair.
Somewhere, above
you, red maple branches
dissolve into
the wind, whose hoary
fingers are darting,
playfully parting
the leaf battered locks
of your light brown hair.
Somewhere, you
are hailing a taxi,
catching a bus.
It’s eight in the morning,
and the splintered sunlight
from fiftieth storey
windows is falling on your light brown hair.
Somewhere, above
you, red maple branches
dissolve into
the wind, whose hoary
fingers are darting,
playfully parting
the leaf battered locks
of your light brown hair.