Wednesday, November 02, 2011

Time it was and what a time it was . . .

Day of The Dead, 2011

Maybe the reason we call it fall,
is owing to the fact that in the
autumn trees dissemble,
the sun, the birds, withdraw,
make their homes in more
distant quadrants. Everything
falls away.

I have always been afraid to think that
life has more to do with “visitation” than it
does with “residence.”

So in this day, this autumn day, I collect all my
bruised goodbyes, and in that colored round
I forage.

I find much leaving,
a space where fall seems all,
that, and grace, and gratitude.

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