as truth and evidence, and has unravels his very essence,
to grab a hold of something new,
something hip, something young.
He is mixed up in ever changing--
yellows and burgandys--
To shake up his style, grab a hold of his new scent--
"Fall for me" filled with acorns and dying leaves,
Meant to market the younger spring step in us all.
His brick red corvette --filled with
Tangerine pumpkin patches
And bronze corn mazes-- meant to lure the
Vulnerable and weak,
Into believing what young can be again.
The scent is meant to expose an impulse
To be as young, agile, and reckless
As the fertile trick or treater's
That come out this time of age.
He feels the wind among his arms.
That gentle, guiding nudge that he used to take as
A soft embrace.
He sheds a new leaf
As he transfixes on what he once was.
--Ah! To be that full of power and growth,
Full of rainbows and emerald greens.
He wants to return to the roots of his childhood
Before he becomes an old, bitter winter.
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