the raptures of fall

spoken in so many tongues where quiet and meter adjourn
a soft foot upon your bed
a twinkling smile upon your porch
everything wafts of straying memories and
strophing knees

over the dress
where the leaves drop effortless
there is a symposium of light where
all the clusters of confusion dwindle
until diffused

unbeknownst to me or the boorish
depths of you
is this moment
when we can speak
as if lifelong
mates
and
know
that the waves
of tomorrow
with all
her sinewy horrors
can limp
unaffected

walled off
from oblivion

and the two
of us
alone
in pictures
and silence
will
walk
straddling the
lines of
impossibility
at last