the leaf birds of Longford

the leaf birds of Longford

slow through

russet diamond walkways.

fringed in amber,

the park, before me

lolling like a mossy tongue.

the leaf birds quiver

in the wind.

all of a sudden,

spinning without sound

to the earth.

the mushroom chairs

are empty. much less

lingering, now,

beneath that weeping

willow tree.

in the heart, the flowers have gone.

the park is sombre;

draped in autumn.

and i have to go on,

without them.