Hidden Light
Leaves float down from
wood fingers casting confetti on a silent union
brushing hair, cheek, shoulder, eye to
land in silent layers under a hundred hushed footfalls.
I walk unwitnessed aisles alone through
reaching archways of yellow adorned arms
to the edges of endings
in sweet sadness for the fallen.
With no map into tomorrow’s stumbles
I mourn the faint coyote call dimmed below a highway’s heave.
Yips and cries portending endings
ears can’t hear
under unease’s droning drum.
Envious of trees content in selves, barked cells
benevolent still as they
store swaths of secret light for darker times.
Beside them, I side-step invisible where
old women dwell in doorways dimmed to whispers.
Snuffed candles.
But fog will burn to blue
And leaves will dance a last-ditch dance
unrythmed, chaotic waltz gusting lusty circles for black cackle of crows.
Way past the hour of nice and neat
they blaze brave like spiralled galaxies; shining
brave candles re-lit, wildly flicker
small flames into tomorrow’s
expansive sky.
