Leftover Love

A PURPLE CHILL

I thought of you today
as I walked the woods
a purple chill in the air
and the breath of a breeze
caught in the rustle
of leftover leaves on
beech oak and pine.

I thought of you today
in drifts of moss, lichen
and fern sentences rolling
gently onto the banks of
an icy brook and steep
hillsides of a memory
not that long ago.

I thought of you today
as I sipped an elderberry
brew how I would have
offered you a glass with
an invitation to savour and
meet me in a whimsical
ode to a painted lady.

I thought of you today
in old poems where once
there was gray-green fog
Blue Jo and a turn
to hear cricket cry in the night
much like a lover
stealing away.

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