Look up.
Do you see the way the light streams
through the hole in the forest,
illuminating the single red leaf,
the tiny blade of grass
almost yellow with winter,
but kept in autumn by the orange giant
hovering above it?
Look up.
Do you see the way the sky’s blue
fades away like a petal left on my windowsill
into yellow on the outer edges
like a piece of old notebook paper?
Look up.
Do you see me staring at you,
longing for your gaze,
screaming for your eyes,
or does it only come out a whisper-
just a trace of autumn on the cool summer breeze?