Love eludes its meaning.
Romance heckles illusory reasons,
shaking insecurity to its core,
embracing sweaty palms
beneath the maple tree
as autumn leaves swirl
the summer through another season.
On the barley beneath
the maple tree,
we counted stars,
vowing never to part.
She fell asleep in my arms
to the melody of my heartbeat.
My nerves, rattled by the desolation
known for some time,
had an idea trapped in sincerity.
The concept of swapping vows
in a small chapel without a crowd
appealed to the brighter side of us.
That maple sapling saw more of us
than the back seat of her mustang.
Secrets told maze through the forest
like ghosts in a breeze.
(© 2022 AC)
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