Four Seasons in one sentence

Without looking I saw a couple
trying to wrap one last gasp sentimental scarf
around two halves of a known failing heart;
and while all was calm
they couldn’t see the holes
and the unravelling
had already made a faint but fatal start.

Their summer tilted towards autumn,
trees yielded soft leaf tears to the restless wind,
their conversation changed
and with four seasons in one sentence
I heard unspoken dreams
fall to pieces inside her
as silently they stood
one word away from each other
and the inevitable end.

© D. Archer. September 2012

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