Brink of Another Phase

Now he is coming to chase her away,
Forward traveling, through sheets of autumn,
Leaves effortlessly whirlwind through the grass.
Anatomy of green pigments sprawled veins
Why does the air still smell sweet as summer?
The sundial must be lying.
Lingering memories sift through the field,
As if not yet prepared to bid adieu.
I lay on the grass and gaze at the sky.
Liberal shapes swirl up in firmament.
Strawberry and peach are washed by the night
How beloved an instant, a threshold.
Precious that blink, bought back by no cost.
One freckle of existence, that was it.