i like most things


the green feathers
of the parrots

a thousand shingles
of autumn light

long rugs
of snow


                                              i
                                              like most things
                                              will only be here


for that pullpush
of breath

the briefest brush
of the sun

a tremble
of rain

it rained today
and what remained

of the leaves steeped
in the cold november shower

seeped
and stained

the dark
of the wet sidewalks

such
is the clutch

and release
of power

the transfer
of light

within the sky
such

is how we hurt
and heal

september now silenced
the cicadas

and a well
of wind coned

across the ocean
spitting earth

with elemental pace

meanwhile        october has stepped upon the stage
meanwhile        the flowers lean into last light
meanwhile        the sunsets whisper

the crows complain
of october rain

an autumnal fuss
they can’t sustain

ruffled
into rust

dust wind
lifted

drifts
of scraps

puddle
into piles

spill
and clutter

into corners

let us          testify            that everything is an energy
let us          agree             that kindness is a necessity
let us          embrace        the details that call light forth

red the last leaf
clipped undone

and swept
across my path

what will bend
will bend

what will break
will break

scrapescrapescrape sings
the god of all things

and then her silence says
bend

and then her silence says
break

and then her silence says

with a pale parade
of its confetti

of dead leaves
winter has arrived

i am accepting
of all seasons

each
with its bounties

and boundaries
its rewards

and regrets
in his sermon

a priest once said
that life

in the absence
of pain

would be hell