the last leaf

and when the last leaf
fell softly to the ground,
from the bough of a tree,
standing tall and bare
amidst her fallen
bloodshot eyes,
they didn't whisper
a word to each other,
no thank yous,
no goodbyes,
no stories,
of 'you' and 'me',
and 'us',
only a silence
that spoke for itself -
a sacred vow taken,
to live their lives to the hilt,
between a flaming earth
and a bleeding sky,
who didn't have to thank them
for being witnesses
to a sacred marriage,
of all that was,
all that is,
and all that could be,
all over again,
tomorrow.