Plum

The sky had been painted plum that night,

flecks of orange 

and deep purple

peaceful, sweet and vibrant.

A girl stood under it

looking up, wondering,

waiting for something...

or was he nothing?

She threw out her arms, blades against the breeze

and spun in a circle, cutting the air with her bare arms

skin turned to swirls, her body was a blur

and she collapsed dizzy in the yard.

Time had ticked slowly that autumn

like maple syrup, patient and simple.

On her elbows she propped herself,

cocked her head..

She watched what she thought was him

a silver spec, (striping the air) her somebody,

soaring toward the horizon,

the sunny west coast.

She flipped over, her back on the earth

and like a sudden shower, 

her eyes poured rain,

forming puddles past her cheeks.

She turned her eyes toward him,

watched the grass meet the pavement

the pavement meet the sky -

plum colors -

and cried.