Our Last Date
Gary Wilson
When the leaves fall I begin to remember things
I feel my blood, stirring in the winds
And my brain is active
I watch the butterflies at night
And sometimes I see them spelling out my name
In their light
I walk to a larger rock
And began to sit
When I noticed Linda's name
Carved in
I slept with my head on the rock
When I woke, her name was gone
I can still hear her voice
Over the music of the merry-go-round
And I can still see her face
In the JC diner
Where we shared french fries and gravy
For the last time