as a waterfall
maple –
the color of love
of blood
was the believer
come
waltzing in silence
toes gliding so
‘cross ages
when you loved me
(I know)
the seasons
restarted –
a flower renamed
where yesterday’s
seed
slept alone
dreaming of somewheres
another goodbye
– ways we might
wander (again)
caught in the spinning
of blushing to gold
leaves where a kiss
couldn’t go

. . .