Autumn As Love Grows Old Poem by Leslie Philibert

Autumn came before
I looked; trees as dry
as a moth`s dead wing.

The darkening pulls
mist from my cold shadow;
the falsehood of sleep.

In your wide arms -
a hint of darkness and crabapple,
your eyes shuttered like a French shop.

A time for dark tea,
rain`s old song.
So carry the wreath of October

for this is the time of
the brown and yellow cooling,
all wind and rainy.

Let me stroke your cheek
with the outside of my frost finger
as stars chase themselves,
the air full of tears.