Chimneys Canopy, pastel 2004

On a late afternoon
when I was sixteen,
while the leaves were gold
and the grass was green,
I went for a walk in the late summer's air,
without a worry,
without a care.

I looked for the stars
in the afternoon sky,
not expecting to see them,
not questioning why.
I looked for the snow
on the late summer's ground,
though I knew there was none
for miles around.
I looked for the lilies,
though I knew they were gone;
I kicked at the leaves
and traveled on.

Many years later
when I had grown old,
I looked for the leaves
of crimson and gold.

From age 16