Autumn: Fall

How was it we came to be there:
Our backs to the restless ash, listening
to it whisper of the warmth of a September day
Picking at blades of yellowing grass

I felt something pass overhead, a shadow
a cloud, perhaps

I could see the change of seasons, the
sun wax and wane in the sky of your eyes,
your skin dappled by darkness and light
As you looked away, far from me

Summer turned to autumn and

Those ripe fruits we once cupped firm and warm
in our hands
craving the taste, the sweetness
turned suddenly bitter

I shivered

and felt something pass between us, a shadow
a ghost, perhaps

"If we live a cycle of death and rebirth,
You said
and looked away, far from me
"you must now think of me as dead.

My hand
closed in spasm on a blade
of yellowing grass
and you should have known
that I knew
You already were