Reverie

R E V E R I E
Beneath the fluttering wings
of this red gold leaf blown afternoon
lie the soft white feathers of memory
drifting down on the breeze like seeds
looking for fertile ground to take root
and they find it in my willing earth
and all at once it is another time
and that eager upturned face
and those sparkling eyes
belong once again to me
and I am back home
and you are there
. . . . .

- Susannah Bec 2010