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July 04, 2022

Fall For It

By James Nichols

Fall For It

Ochre becomes her
when shadows precede dusk's demise.
Crisp crunch of tip toes
betrays her strategy.

Jaundiced leaves relinquish summer's grip,
surrendering to the chilled wind-knives
as suicide jumpers spiral upon the pile.

She is silent and supine,
a bed of deadness billows about.
Her ochre now home among the yellow friends.
She remarks on the symbolism
of the dead leaf pile as a bed
and her desire to escape.

A casual glance at her erupting smile
tells me I've been duped again
by my lady who stifles a laugh
as she promises resurrection by spring.






Article © James Nichols. All rights reserved.
Published on 2017-11-13
Image(s) © Sand Pilarski. All rights reserved.
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