The impatient wealth of autumn arrives
as if just for me.
The air I breathe is semi-liquid
then let loose
rogue and wolf.
I am drenched
and dry.
My feet like
wet cohesions.
My pre-loved coat
a shelter of leather.
I borrowed my umbrella
from a friendly stranger.
Do thoughts gleam
like phosphorescence
in the ether?
They say moon rock is a sharp dust.
She is full-hipped tomorrow.
Tonight she fattens.
© N Nazir 2021
Written for Sammi Scribbles Weekend Writing Prompt: Pre-loved, 71 words