passing through

slivers of place and time

unconsciously dropping pieces of

my heart

like bright red Japanese maple leaves

like seed pods

the memory of me


floating away

on a draft

so many dry leaves

leaving only the lingering whiff

of crisp fall air

sometimes taking root

growing tender green tendrils

in the fertile hearts of others

a taste of sweet tart apple

that lingers

on the tongue


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

Categories: Poetry

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