ALL THOSE
THINGS
Taking the season rightly in stride, I am
walking through leaves as they fall. Everything
follows that same progression : the passage
through time as if blind. Love and luck, together,
have no handle by which to hold on. I am running
this gantlet together with all those I know. There's
another magnet to draw me, but I will not acquiesce
as it leads me astray : foundation, meticulous spray,
the sight of green awnings still open on a wild yellow
house, the water that never stops leaking from the hose.
Why all this matters now, I really cannot say. It's a
day
in the bright light, a day in the shadows, one after
another,
and all those things (I may have said) amount to,
really,
so very little at all. I am taking this season rightly
in
stride, walking along, and checking my
stride.
No comments:
Post a Comment