departure

we walked on down the road, following in the shadows of each other's love,
the sweet scent of the sycamore trees distracting us.

we saw a good distance down the red dirt road,
saw enough to know what lay around the bend,
yet we walked on, content in the knowing of the present day,
caught in that moment that felt like a forever memory from childhood.
it was hot cocoa and animal crackers until the third mile.

you, with your hand stretched out towards mine.
me, with my fingers thus entwined, caught in
that moment of the falling sycamore leaves,
the crisp fall air, the red dirt road,
the lingering memories that blinded us to the changing seasons
of our hearts, to the curve of departure up ahead.


--bruised orange