the cicadas slur their final words
of summer

from one side of the lake
to the other

a sedge of herons
is perfect

just above the water
all along

the green of the mountains
autumn

is already pecking its reds
and yellows

drift to any distance
and you will dance

through delight
and damage

i have been           loneliness
i have been           holiness

and i now know
the difference