Poglobe

Staring into space,
I sat below a ginkgo tree.
When a leaf caught my eye;
As if a golden butterfly
Lost adrift the blue sky,
Falling gently to earth
To lick at my foundations.
Only to be followed by
A gilded barrage —
Countless ginkgo leaves
Falling in tandem,
As if the tree was weeping
And time had slowed.

A rare performance,
Yet it all felt unfair to me:
Blossoming autumn was already past
For the ginkgo tree.

Each detaching leaf
Reminded me of a missed memory.
Times when she wanted to dance,
But I was too sheepish to hold hands.
Little did I know Lisa,
Little did I know.