The conversation takes us
With fits of laughter
And that pretty look on her face
Into a blissful unconsciousness

My mind
A stone
Sitting at the bottom of a river

Slowly it weather's away
Until there's nothing left

people are like autumn leaves
swirling in the wind
and shimmering at the edges of my perception

far over a long stretch of dense wood
the earth casts downward to reveal a basin of still water
shaded slightly by the swaying leaves
and a crouched figure

into her reflection gaze, those near-crying eyes
wavering slightly as little mists catch evening light
odd shimmering shapes mists make:
like a lock of golden hair
and a tear, falling slowly downward
which just rests placidly on the water's surface
as to not disturb its holy silence

no matter how many tears she cried
no tear could ripple that still pool of glassy water
from which her reflection looked-- almost mockingly
if something can mock wholly unintentionally

some things have to stay unaffected
even if it's uncomfortable for a time.

I can feel sleep tugging on me slightly

Like the pleasant little ripples that lay on top of deeper water

Small remnants of something larger and more powerful

All of a sudden
a great warm wave grasps my body

Transforming into a little leaf or a tiny shell
I am carried weightless into the great warm abyss

Once there, I will float limply for a time

Simply waiting for the new sun to reach my face

Dewdrops on the grass
Shudder in the new sun
as they disappear