Like fingers reaching in and through 

Grasping at each image we recall

Twisting and turning beneath our stare

Trying to see what is and is not really there.

The spaces between like pages turned

Flipping aimlessly in an autumn breeze

We stand stoically like dying trees

Trying to hang our hopes like ornaments

On bare branches of existence.

We crave the fullness of summer days

Of the midnight winds rustling our thoughts

And sultry nights leave sweat dampened skin

We feel most alive there

Swinging on branches that carry our weight

On solitary swings

Back and forth

Our feet rising higher as we kick and push

Never fearing the heights

Of a divine moment spent

In the company of birds and clouds,

Beneath the leaves before they too turn

And slip away dying,

We rock beneath their confetti-like shapes

Oblivious to all that will come

For future days and passing seasons

Herald the tangled emotion

Of forward movement,

Life and death

And the moments lived in between.