Late autumn leaves fall.
October London is covered in deep hues of orange and purple.
In my solitude by the river I daydream that I am an adolescent reptile escaped from Kafka’s Die Verwanlung laid back in the sun.

The men come and go, their heavy cologne fills the air.
Perhaps later, for now I am content to simply observe.
To my advantage I know all about them while they know so little of me.

Thinking of you, dying just a little, our dreams never realized,
I imagine my earthly body sat beside yours on a grassy knoll behind a castle breathing the scent of lilac and the mossy green River Delta.

Later in the dark
You are so near and to resist you
I distract my mind with Roethke’s “In A Dark Time”.
Later I sway like a young birch in a summer tempest in your arms. 
I am…