a thought has risen
as I watch the yellow leaves
fall to the ground,
forming aerial waves.
this was the place
i remember us playing
innocently like angels
of empyrean or heavens.
this was where i tripped
as a kid with games sticked
in mind as we breathed
the same tender, young air.
this was where I stumbled
upon this olive, autumn grass
everytime we play marbles,
and fought about
anything possible.
this was where i learned
about playful things
from morning until
pink skies set in.
this was where
it all happened.
you were fifteen
and I remember
your last innocent smile,
directed at me
under the falling leaves
of acacia tree.
you touched my head
and said
honey, be twelve.
young love indeed