The Coming Of Winter

The Coming of Winter
by Adrian Leverkuhn

Little lace curtains of rain trace
forgotten fingers of touch down
windows looking over barren fields
where we walked on sunnier days

the landscape of touch remains
traced on innocent glass
where we sat and watched
leaves drift through cool air

in flight by our window
lost in their casual dance
to reside in the earth
be gone from our sight

through veiled tears on glass
shadows of lost time pass
from the memory of a sigh
do leaves whisper as they die?

were we ever so young?

two souls drew lines on glass
took paths beside falling waters
where chance led the way
and time bespoke no bargain

now one voice stilled - lost
within rivers of time - asking
leaves as they fall - silent
flight gives way to the question

were we ever so young?
oh, God, were we ever so young?

old soul weeps as shadows
of silence draw near to flames
in hope that the sheltering rain
harkens the coming of winter.