The Floating Iris

She's like an accordion

Frightened smile

Broken eyes

In need of laughter 

She gambols in the falling leaves

As they silently brush there way through her soft hair

Twirling around in her patterned sweater

Feeling the wind through her finger tips

Tasting the everlasting beauty of the brisk air.

Then, as we sing in the garden

Gazing at the twilight 

Teeth filled with everything but sorrow

We sing out our fears

As we cavort and frolic through our lives

Through the falling trees

And through the broken and withered leaves

We step