The Fall of the Love Song

The painting Falling

The day is short and the night falls fast and long.
In it a brisk wind whirls up a frantic treetop song.
An orange and a red smack and couple.
They spin and swirl, she whispers, he rustles.

Embracing.
They free themselves and fly.
Much higher than all the rest.
Tightly held in the moment of their death.
The leaves separate and fall.