A stream over rocks
mimics the way
the breeze brushes past trees
and taps at my windowsill

It’s almost too quiet
Among half sober, half lucid professions
Entre murs, deux par deux
Hiding syllables I might have said twice

I wanted to tell you
But then changed my mind
So inopportune words
fold into a breath

And melt into murmuring rain

Maybe
there's rock plain enough
for me to stoop and take a rest
maybe if I stopped and stilled my breath to match
the humming stream by this aching chest
just for a moment,
Time would stop for me

Maybe
the mountains, my hands
will cup frosted grass
squirrels frozen in mid air, eyes unseeing
chasing a faraway autumn glow, but
my heart has slowed to a careful thrum
it wants me home

Maybe if I stopped