Autumn red, and the silent leaves Release that rustle which is a scream for them. Rolling down the road too fast and it turns red; they scream. Crashed and on a gurney, he reaches for her hand; His red blood spills; she screams….

Whispering in terror fearfulness apparent in wide, translucent eyes begging the silent to hear but she cannot scream she cannot hear there is only the nothing that comes when unanswered pleas become shouts of regret there is nothing to be done there is nothing to…