Thursday, November 9, 2017

Gold:

we wound 
our way 
through 
the midwestern 
woods

sunlight
filtering through
the autumn leaves

golden rays
dancing
among
the branches

the late 
afternoon 
light
playfully 
chasing 
the forest’s
ever moving
shadow

a blanket 
of fallen leaves
keeping
the ground
warm
guarding
it from
the chill
in the
October air

all while
our conversation
wandered

like the trails
and the creek bed

and the wind
wistfully
winding
through the trees
as they moved
politely
out of its way
their leaves
bowing courteously
as it passed by

until we found 
our way
back to our
separate cars
waiting
to take us
down separate roads
to our separate
homes

away from the woods
and their golden
afternoon light

now
I know
that nothing
gold can stay
but gold
is just one color

I would wander
with you 
through 
well lit woods

or
rain soaked 
streets
in the dead of night

or 
the worst 
of winter 
whiteouts

the worth
of the brightest
moments
measured
by the weight
of meaning
imbued in
those
of sorrow
and frustration
and disappointment

the memories
of light
and rain
and snow
entwined
in each minute
we spend together

binding our separate lives

like
the separate 
roads
leading
to our separate
homes 
that always 
meet
somewhere
in the middle

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