nature
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Each autumn, the leaves surrender in gold to the ground belowWindswept from indifferent branches they fed all summerThe waters know what it means to be battered to and froriver stones worn grief smooth by careless currentsin choreographed odysessys flocks abandon the snowand even the earth accepts the sun’s cold shoulderso why do I hold fast
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Creamy white paper pad cracks openA tentative 4H draws me to the horizonfrom darkest to lightframing my perspective with dots and crosshatchesout of myself into the page in the weight of the shell on the sandcapturing light on the waterlost where the sky meets the seawax and wane of 0.5mmthe quiet drawn out in black
circular staircase 