Sunday, October 9, 2022


 Honest Air

The air is crisp and cold again,

Has lost its languid indeterminacy.

Here, we can be honest again.

No more distracting small talk,

Sharing a sultry August air

Warmed by our feral lungs.

No more dawdling in fields

Pretending we have all summer 

To figure it all out

Honking geese fleeing

South, squirrels gathering

Nuts, trees reclaiming their peripheral 

Green, a world in a rush to finish up,

To store up all that’s left 

Before the first frost calcifies

Our living ground to cold bone 

And ices to stillness the arterial flow

Of our shallow brown river.

Each breath now is a stinging 

Rebuke of frigid austerity.

My eyes widen.

Nothing is hidden 

In this crystalline simplicity.

I am fully awake,

Distilled of all illusions. 

There is nothing to fear

Here, and nothing left to rue

Here, I don't wear a coat.

Hands go numb

And lips turn blue.

Each brief breath can be counted

As a series of tiny evanescent clouds.

I watch my body shiver.


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