August Autumn

 

resting on the leaves the leaves
the leaves around the leaves to fall
playfully hang
in meditation the leaves upside-down upward peer
rustling wonder 
and in rushes a prayer still transmitting..

wispy silhouettes of gently whirling air
her coffee vapour rises to the slowly lowering branches
as she sits with a tome
leaves turn leaves
to paraglide and to rise..

the coffee table is white
in the way melting snow is
the shade of a wordless wish yet to be lost..

she sits by a formica coffee table
she sips the coffee like it is
the nectar in everything and on her lips
the infinite sea of the sipping drops..

she is reading a physical book
like they really did back in the twentieth
she is reading a physical book
and she is real
and the leaves that fall 
to ponder and rustle
to ask
for a duet
for the leaves-in-waiting to breathe..

and an ocean wave of auburn
laps down her left shoulder blade
certain strands glint like threads
threads of the deepest red wine counterpoint
a lime quarry of surface-mined philistine 
an untethered pavement dirigible of used inflated tyres passes by
hunting on tinder for a horny recycling bin
please note in the twenty-first 
this counts as a realised manifestation of empowerment..

i have a book with me
should i ask her to kiss
she would bless the words
though the barista might call the police..

does this sound too much like the intoned narration
of a reflective car window-man in a hopelessly romantic european film
the battered citroen itself a disillusioned marxist..

a film made before the tail end of yesteryear
full of other-worldly colour symbology
okay i will stop here
the twenty-first century has no need for such dreamy dreary nonsense
smoke blown please walk with me..