The Autumn of Her Life

She was afraid of being too beautiful because it seemed like the prettiest candles always burned out too quickly.

She rarely spoke, but when she did the words came somersaulting out like playful rabbits on frosty and fallen trees.

She'd once had a name, but in the wistful passage of time had let it dissolve like snowflakes in the warm hand of her forgetfulness.

Her yearning for love grew stronger like a laughing child with a mind of its own--a child that never wants the summer to end.

She understood the forest one branch at a a time. She anointed each as would a radiant princess who'd emerged from the pages of magic.

She acted quickly, sensing that the changing seasons of her own royal hands would curl like dying leaves and the book would drop and close forever.

But the finger which had written puzzles in the sand touched her hair before it was too late. The crimson and the contentment of the sun joined together to form a carousel of first kisses.

These were her tranquil and merciful hiding place.

It was a place for miracles, for music to blossom as it found its voice in the height and depth of a loving and ageless heart.

It was the autumn of her life as goodbyes and hellos were the endless and shoeless sidewalks which came inside and walked around her room.

They carried her forever to the twinkling of her guardian angel star even as she lay peacefully sleeping.