This morning’s dawn
had a hint; a tease,
like barely touching lips
of autumn to the air.
It tickled the skin
like a cool breeze
on warm inner thighs;
or the goose bumps
on *******,
at first caress.
The grass was damp
like the commingled glistening dew
of lover’s passion spent.
I love the fall
from grace from summer
to the meditation
at season’s end.
I wait the blushing trees
like my lover’s first unveiling
before the bold nakedness
of November’s knowing wind.
I thought of you this morning
as I walked
into the day.