Fall is a greedy lover
Spectacular color sown into gray washed skies
not quite fulfilling the promise of day break’s new temperance
Until suddenly winter breaks
under the repetitive taxation of light.

“I have to go. I have to find something – to feel.”
The paper she holds, white, against the cuneiform of cheap ink;
Lithe in matter’s latency against the pressure – the progression of time.
And needing to grasp for some reason,
the words she sees are not what she hears,
A taped repetition “you’re not good enough.”

Her arm falls aside;
the note held in constancy,
Compassion
Her search for resonance once more

And through the luster of their glass
Sweetly;
Sing, the finches
Passing conversation and hours in toil – in love
Plucky by the bluster
Maples and Pine,
color and texture,
fanning breeze;

She folds the paper, puts it in a drawer
Engages the scene through her solid door;
Passing into future
Energy given to craft
Among the dancing sunbeams.