A life in words
Every relationship comes to a moment,
a moment where the fire
that smoldered with a flame ablaze
seems doused, minimal.
It isn’t extinguished, simply dulled.
From the bog came the clamor of cicadas.
Though deafening in the marsh,
another sound could be heard.
Slow and echoing, it comes
from between tree trunks.
No part of this animal is visible, nothing
but the eyes.
Acorns crunch and pop beneath my soled feet,
leaves of sienna and plum lay plastered along the pavement