Reflections in Fall Days

My dreams are illusive things, perhaps, but
Is it possible that I have spelt it wrong?
Could it really be elusive? You see,
I can’t survive all hope abandoned,
That fair and pretty dream of souls connecting
Illuded by the faded warp woof of missed perceptions.

No, I’ll have ‘elusive’, if you please.
Give me that elusive just-around-the-corner love affair.
Give me Plato’s shadowed cave of outside possibilities.
Hell, yes! I’ll taste that fall leaf throwing its reflection.

Harlem Meer, West Side, November