Time Poem by MARINA GIPPS

I walked outside the other day
and noticed the sky was almost
pretty.

Bright warm hues of a
summer day but I remembered
it was autumn.

Beginning with impeccable solitude
ticking and picking away
at nervous endings. I must stop
this clock in my mind.

I learned as a little person
that autumn was the due time
for the end
of nervous endings.

Father took my hand and made me feel-
a single, forlorn, windworn
leaf.
This reminded me of his skin.