RIPENESS IS ALL

  ·  Image Milam Pavlovic

RIPENESS IS ALL
Words of a scarlet beauty
tumble down the slope
and we watch
in a surprise and awe
time's seasons held in the palm and the fingers
like the petals we count when speculating
the destiny of a precarious love;
odds and the evens chasing for a privilege,
as the river runs its course.;
a red scarf lying recklessly scattered
on a black iron surface of the bench;
thus looks the vista of a season gone,
a beauty chaste and a pale dawn emerging in the wake of a night