Part of a vivid dream I had last night about autumn.
© Chris Port, 1st August 2011
I forgot I was leaving.
As I stop and say hello,
our hands shake.
The trees are incandescent,
as though God has dabbed each leaf
in fire paint.
Shivering red and yellow,
the blue air smells of presents,
gold and late.
I thought I heard a branch break.
But looking back, what odd sounds
the heart makes…