The Fall

How was I to know?

He told me he was driving
to the mountains; a short
climb to breath clear air and
revel in the change of seasons.

He said how he loved the brilliant
colors; he waxed melancholy
at the coming of the chill, that lonely
feeling when the year approaches end.

There were cliffs where you could
touch the eagles, he said; a place
to leave it all behind, soar like falcon
flight when you felt your life adrift.

"Will you take a lunch?" I asked.

Replying that he wouldn't need one,
he waved, and took off down the driveway,
(I waved right back, unconcerned)
not knowing I'd replay the Fall
in Technocolor slo-mo until end of days,

for how was I to know?


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