There is something seminally beautiful about driving through auburn-lined streets.
This morning as Bjork's Cocoon played
I took time to observe the paths laden with fallen copper-
Window wound down,
Negotiating the bend and beating an Audi travelling at a leisurely 47km/h.
It's a sultry morning and
Leaves pirouetted across asphalt, fuelled by the warm wind,
Dancing, feather-like.
~
If she could only break the paralysis
She would flourish.
~
The time between firsts and lasts
Is sometimes impetuous, candied, coy like mimosa, extravagant and withering, lolita pink or malachite, latent, flitting, magical, grating, light as air.
The time between firsts and lasts
Is either a gap or an escape.
~