Leaves

Summer has furnished trees with leaves.
Children enter the park like light entering
the eyes of a swan with the moon riding on
it's back. An old man's house windows forage
for names and faces , his wife passed on, he
responds to the summer sun, branch tips strain
for the braille manuscript in the clouds above,
he will meet his wife in photographs turned inside
out.

Autumn leaves are like footsteps as they land, a
frail man attempts to understand the theft of love
as he shares an umbrella with the rain's ghost'
Somewhere winter has autumn's mask gripped
in it's claws, a tear travelling down a cheek slows
it's trajectory in response to the inner cry of history
of a clock forever falling, the last few leaves fall, trees
whisper the fleeting fragmented call of a woman
waiting for her husband as minutes are blown away
like leaves.

Seasons take off their masks then take photographs of
each other from inside photographs, they create a crown
from pictures making briefly a dying man king of the park.
Pictures blend to accord with his wife's wistful call.