(no subject)

[cranehaven]

The point comes sharpened by passing time
when just one leaf remains clinging for life,
glistening in the still, breezeless sunlight.
As if there were never a turbulent wind,
nor a deluge of rain.
As if it were this way all along.
That time of year
when shadows cast long
even at noon. . .
Before the steel razor-sharp gray of winter sets in
and the last of the geese fly off.