At the Utmost Leaflessness

Without a leaf — not even a leaf — the branches have frozen. As if there had never been leaves here many, many, heaped on every branch. As if the summer sun had not failed to strike at us in the shelter of that green roof. It shone, the sunlight through the many leaves made light and shade on our faces, on everything. As if around our footsteps shadows had never danced like a lace curtain. As if not — and yet — as if I see you more clearly in the cold naked lane: my burning love...