Coco

I balance on the ledge of my window, up 31 floors, back pressed firmly against the side. 

Sometimes, I will look below, and watch. 

And sometimes, it helps. 

Hey Autumn, old friend, I’ve missed your gentle sway, with leaves like whispers in the fading light of day. Your cloak’s a patchwork quilt of amber’s sweet embrace, and I wonder if you dance beneath the moon’s soft lace. 

Take me on a drive. 

I'll roll the window down, 

stick out my hand, 

let it 

soar through the air, 

fly on the speed, 

fly on the wind. 

The first leaf

is let away

from the motherly grasp

of its tree's branches.

It twirls down

the veins and the webbed leaf between them

fighting

gravity

making it spin

dip