The cottonwood leaves are golden.
They shimmer against an infinite blue
like reflections of the sun’s rays across
the surface of the river.
They brush against each other in the wind
echoing the music of last night’s rainsong.
They are starting to fall.
Their bodies are forming a patchwork
of yellows and browns on the ground.
The calls of jays resound
through the landscape
like a clamoring of sewing machines
stitching the leaves together.
A pattern that could never be duplicated.
Foamy clouds blow in from the ocean
and drift by momentarily
blocking the lazy warmth of the sun.
I am awakened by the cool, clean
sheets of air.
I want to bring you out here.
Launch you like a kite
and sail you high above the earth.
Watch you shimmer
golden against an infinite blue.
In a rush of wind, I will let go
and set you free.
