To Autumn Poem by Amy Marie

You still have only a few fearful leaves pinned to their branches:
The hesitant ones to jump to their sensual Deaths.
Only a few days are there for your spiced essence to live -
Not to be reborn again until about a year.

Your wooden grave awaits:
Sitting half-buried in old crusty leaves.
Inhale its fresh oak scent as you creep to it.
As you lie down - feel your body go limp
In the velvet cushioning of the inside.

And forever may your silver tombstone
Stick up from the moist grass of Sensuality's Sunset Hill.
But Destiny will dig you back up and revive you
A year later after Summer lies where you soon will.

Much Sensual Love -
Amy