from DARK EARTH… ‘Islands’


 

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve been stumbling a lot recently;
though our late night walks,
well worth the pace,
mean more than any comment I make.

Autumn leaves in their rotting
browns and reds betray us. We
cannot compete with such litter
of the season: sweet desolation.

Even if one were so lost as the wind,
over this wide world, I know
you beneath the stars and how
I moved away: delighting in your company.

©Dean J. Baker

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