illusion

November crept softly
this year, whispering
caresses with the subtle hiss
of falling leaves, the door
creaking shut behind him; a child’s
sun-filled breathless instant
just before impact
on a playground swing flown
too high. Still
winter comes, the ground
unforgiving, cold,
immutable to graveled knees;
the moment of invincibility
crashed and vulnerable, lying
in defiance even with
her naked eyes.