are like autumn leaves
once colorful
fall
and crackle
under the soles
of a very trodden foot
like ships
fill up with water
and sink
if it isn’t
then it ain’t
what was
doesn’t hold
anymore
like a cut flower
droops
untouched cherrywood
collects dust
simply by sitting by itself
why does
everything
lose its shine?
I want it back
to the way it was
when it was young
full of promise
when the wrapping
was holding it together
did the novelty
make it prettier?
did less of it
impress?
in age
it regressed
was love
the spackle
that filled in
the cracks?
how do we
get it back?