When The Leaves Fall Away

I look up the date to see when they died,
wish I'd been like them but never even tried;
the tears flowed but now won't come anymore,
it was bottled and a soft perfume of amour.

Russet Brown used to be an actor, lying down
on the earth, now in the stars with light brown,
reminiscing of all those things that went before,
God treated memories with fixative, closed the door.

How we laughed and cried with turquoise green,
but now the brown is where it should have been,
it was between our toes, in drooping hedgerows,
in trees and orange air where all the wind blows.

We're there in sepia photos with good endeavour,
of course we are and will love each other forever.