no title

Not thinking
of our forgotten jackets,
we watch the sunset.
Brilliant coral melting
in a glistening mirror—
a distant lake.
We watch as it sinks in.

My son, pressed against
my husbands chest,
my head tucked
between his head and shoulder.
Sheltered from the wind,
my son giggles.

His laughter, laced with assurance,
whistles through paper leaves
drenched with color---
hue of flames, texture of ashes.
Their hue brings warmth
to our goose bumped arms.
My son’s head nested
in my husband’s neck,
Creates a halo around our tree.