I am here to feel the leaves change color. Here to watch
trees shake their heads like horses in the wind.
To see what quiet does to a young man.
To ask if I can kiss a young autumn.
See how that feels.
A sparrow brushes my shoulder up on the high rocks.
The black sky is star-stained. Exquisite. Deep.
I’ve been working on making it start.
The thick silence ruptures. Tree frogs and crickets climb out,
the night’s throat suddenly open, shrill til dawn.
Working on making it start, again.
This field of the mind is still the same. Yet I have begun
to walk different paths through it.
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