At twilight
I walk down the path through the woods
Carpeted in autumn's nocturnal harvest.
The guiding porch light,
Feebler than the fluttering fire flies, fades.
Smell of fresh decay seduces my will.
Desires that have forever resided in the unattainable future
Now like long parted friends sit around with welcoming smiles.
Curious to commingle with Contentment
I feel the Autumn seep into the woods,
And the woods into my heart.

Never before,  
A weary traveller lost upon
The tortuous timber trail
Felt more at peace.
Wishing to curl up in the cold warmth of the golden fleece.  
The woods will the wind to wrap him in wool of the willow
and tuck him amongst the exposed roots.

An unmarked clock ticks somewhere.
Here the eternal present prevails,
Concealed from the eye of the arrow ,
In the stretch of this malleable moment.
I, in the knowledge that my estranged self
Rests in me, am whole again.
At twilight.