It was all about the rotten leaves
and the stony path ahead,
with serpentine arterials driving us to the lake.
Along the way, you and I counting the shrivelled pebbles.
The kids drew this picture.
But left me there to wait and look for one sky,
that was deliberately left unpainted.
I knew there would be this one day,
when you would be the Sun,
to fill in the gaps
to sharpen the contrasts
to let the shadows rise
and to make the treetops breathe.
But wouldn't it be in someone else’s sky?