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Sep 2014
he walked slowly through
the dead leaves speaking aloud his poem of the heart
his world was indian summer that day
she had smiled
winter was her walking
so he walked with her
she smiled again

chew on the edges of thoughts you don't want to think
adjust your head to thinking them
so he tried on for size
her sympathetic tears
but he didn't like to see her cry
so she smiled again

he became dysfunctional in his due time
but not even her smile could fix his rusty chain
so she knew she needed a new friend
so she went walking
alone
thinking of his poem in the dead leaves
thinking of indian summer
mark john junor
Written by
mark john junor  59/M
(59/M)   
618
       ---, KB, ryn, Deborah Brooks Langford, Frisk and 8 others
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