Waiting For Autumn Poem by Matthew Zeller

We stood on treetops, waited for
fingers to glide through salted hair,
trace the creases of crow’s feet.
Playful bite. Nibbled ears
listened for whispered lies.

Pensive sway of neighboring limbs aroused us.
We burned slowly to red, remembered why we fall.

For wet, long kisses from full, lying lips
that could have lied for a lifetime.
We wouldn’t have given a damn.

For cocoa butter shampoo scents, waterfall
brown hair cascading below her shoulder blades.
Eyes to match smiled at us, combing in the mirror.
We wondered if they told the truth.

Spooning on a secondhand couch,
wearing out the cushions.
Skipping class, getting high
on Tuesday afternoons.
The way she dropped her towel,
swore she picked up after me.

We fall for her and silly lies,
especially the deadpan ones.
She said I looked handsome in a bowling shirt.
Sometimes she believed the lies she told.

We waited, fell.
That’s what we do.
True to nature, always the same,
pressed ground. Still she never came.