Fall in Brooklyn

The rain has subsided, for now; pushed away by the wind,

which turns over the few leaves that scatter the sidewalk, 

the rest still unsure if they’re ready to make their annual descent.

The wind flutters the pages of a newspaper, 

neglected and askew on the front steps of someone’s brownstone.

A couple passes by.

Strands of her hair sweep across her face. 

They stick to her lips as she opens her mouth in laughter 

and brush the edges of his face.