Brimstone Lark

How we reach our hands outstreatched

for the out of sight lovers

for the cities and beaches

shining in the cove of our minds.

Even an airplane feels romantic

with its cramped lanes and plastics

as it fades out of sight.

I am baffled in revere

by the birds who do not migrate

despite their wings.

I envy the dry fallen leaves

and their soft applause

cheering for the falling rain.