We were thinking of our autumn
Climbing down stairs, after stars
In a usual roof walk after dinner.
We could not finger -point stars
And there was just a mild breeze
And we forgot a previous count.
We had planned to count sheep,
Repeat feet pitted against stars,
Rife with a possibility to forget.
After autumn, spring cannot be
Far behind and may be waiting
In the sky ,once we finish count.