There is a single leaf flying
in this my autumn gloaming,
a leaf fluttering light
as if being orchestrated
by your words in flight
rushing to my inner ear;
'I have fallen in love
with another you said.'

My leaf stammered,
swaying in its downward flight
unable to remount the tree,
terrified to crash the ground
suspended forever there
as was also true of your words;
better to not reach my inner ear
better to not have my leaf touch down dead.

Between us all these years
neither war, nor peace;
we existed in the troubled middle ground
purgatoried, unsensed, fluttering, leaf bound
frozen between tree and ground.

Now you have burned our tree down-
lit the leaf and made it flame-
and pulled from under us the very ground.

No matter the dead leaves, the burning tree
no matter the absent ground
these things will
in turn return
for the seasons never-end.

Therefore, I shall take my sip of sorrow
sipped slowly from my Flask of Time
and await
the Spring.

Lonnie Hicks

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-flask-of-time/