And autumn leaves,
Caught up in a chance meeting along the road.
We turn each other about;
A sweet dizzying dance,
Locked into each other’s movement and
For the wonderful ride.
And all else spinning outside becomes a blur
Until we tire one another.
And all spun-about and lost,
We have to let each other go.
And so the little whirlwind, grown weary, turns away,
And the little autumn leaf drops, scuttling along the pavement
Faded and curling at the edges.
But slowly, while the seasons turn,
The leaves grow again
And in our stillness,
We might find another who catches us unawares;
Another little whirlwind who plucks us from the tree,
Lifting us up, higher still,
Dancing us through the brilliant sky.
And our colours begin to show again;
Bright and clear and beautiful.
If only for a little while.
My little whirlwind,
We are turning again.
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© 2013 Rosie Escott
Rosie writes in her spare time and is currently working on a collection of short stories. She lives in Margate.