this october morning
is as tender
as a lover’s face;
as gentle
as a baby’s hand;
as lovely
as a mother’s kiss

this october morning
softens me into a child
dashing after a falling leaf
grasping it with glee

thinking myself an angel
breaking its fall

but i had cut short
its graceful decent,
its last dance,
its farewell song

i climb to the top of the stairs
in penance
  and release my capture
to the air…

in silent
surrender
of
youth.