Autumnal Whimsy 
by Rachel Koehne

The wool stretched and fuzzed on my arms.
My tights pulled and chilled and warmed and shone,
my naked hands frictioned my sweater.

Sparkly sunlight yellowed the dewy grass
and the dewy grass reflected the diamond solarance.

Whimsy grabbed me-
it made me talk about things like the leaves that are jealous of the grass, so they leap
and tumble down to play.

My mouth expands with the warmth and honeyed creaminess of tea.
My throat slurps the leafy wetness and I gasp in delight.  While my mouth is
open
autumnal zephyr cashmeres into tastyence on my tongue.
Yums abound in mouthy places.

The hair on my head is not my own hair anymore;
it has declared hairesy and flits about.

Meanwhile, my erstwhile feet-things are no longer
connected to my gloopy brainything.
They dance dopaminey,
my shoes clikety-clacking beneath them.
The dancy, slippery joy of

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