Crimson and Brittle

A leaf, crimson and brittle,
long pressed between the pages
of a dusty volume,
fell down upon the floor.
But, just before it shattered,
a memory was set free
of that crisp sun-lit morning
when we crossed the Plains of Abraham
above the storied river
to the old walled city,
where love burned bright
as the maples.

 

Copyright © 2012 by Jeff Hampton