@First Movement

Flash blue, breezes and gentle touches where he is her favourite dancer.
Twitchy tickly itchy movement, likewise violin trembled string
Autumn arrives with butterfly wings. He is a dancer. Fainted @

Noon sun ray. He says “Hi… Give me a Five”
Shine or silver, day to day. It all turns to grey.

@Second Movement

Life in a day where there are knots in every skein. The moment of whispering
And the surprise gifts of the Year. Look. Rains and showers flushed into her skirt.
Autumn lands with a giant painting brush. She is a painter. Arrayed in

Gold and red, twirling canvas panels with leaves upon her ankles.
Their intense autumnal melancholy embittered

@Third Movement

life wonders’ bedroom window. Of oscillating thread
that winds between the living and the living we thought were dead.

Autumn falls with hymn choral from spider’s web. He and she reunions
Soul to soul, pole to pole with blesses with increase and life,
They are gross and simple creatures, jointly servant of the Will.