As You Are Now

Marjorie Allen Seiffert

Under golden boughs that lean and drift
You lift your head, and ripples of light
Touch the leaves till they quiver,
Reaching down in a motionless
Unachieved caress.
The branches ache with their desire,
And the wind holds its breath.
The moment dies in a shiver
Of icy fire—eternity and death.
Then leaves fall softly on your head.