No sentence has been passed on me,
No jailer have I to detain me here,
No sturdy lock to prevent my leave,
Yet there's no escape; I can go nowhere.
We walked along
through evening hills,
one hand beheld one hand
and talked in the shadows
A sea of red and gold leaves harboured her feet
as she slowly waded through the autumnal tide,
crisply floating away, the leaves were washed aside
and at their leisure, fell, to reform their decaying sheet.
The shimmering sun reflecting
from the steadily spinning spokes.
Un-laboured limbs sprawled on the cracked
earthen carpet, dappled with tufts of green.
Lay sleeping in your temporal world of dreams,
I come to visit you, but O so briefly here;
I am upon my final journey, it seems,
your honest soul has brought me near.