Sunday, September 2, 2018

Dissolving

Here they come     again.
The long days    suddenly impaled
on    some    thorn

melting
into
one       long      shade

on my evening walk
at Lake Chabot
passing newts
passing ferns,

I stoop       for a look
for       a whiff
for     a bit of joy
and    then

a well-known cry--
I lift my eye to

a tree branch
falling to the ground--

the voice of winter,
following me around.

No comments:

Post a Comment