Setting Fire

And finally, sun.

Steam rises off the wet wooden fence and I am held captive in its trance for as long as it lasts.

In sunlight, I am erased.

In sunlight, the destruction of everything makes sense.

But I can't make it stay.

***

Apple and Brussel sprout hash.

Coffee as an old friend who wishes to destroy me.

Daily sweeping leaves off the back deck.

A lone mosquito lands on the handle of my coffee mug to show how autumn slows the many moments of doing.

Stillness now carries the weight of a twenty year.

***

Inside I am not hedging fifty years old.

I am timeless.

As beautiful and destructive as the sun.

Merwin writes about being younger in October and I totally get it.

Laughing wrens totally get it.

***

Kissing the light.

Tell me again why we cannot do this together.

Show me in the broad light of day why we cannot overlap these bodies and minds.

Why are we not the portals to vanquished darkness?

One hundred years to go one thousand miles; this is the fodder for fire.