autumnal dance

Autumnal Dance

Leaves, in the square, twirl with dust and
paper napkins smeared with ruby lipstick;
from corner to corner reel, stop when wind
drops, gossip, wait and whirl again, shun
the square’s middle ground, though.

Those caught there are blown over houses
an into a blueberry haze; but as wind tires
and depart they are huddled behind a bin,
declaring undying love to life and beauty;
decaying leaves are compost for red roses.