This milky fog lifting past our great oaks
and pines will soon give way to dawn. This dawn
will soon lift subtle dew’s soft sea that soaks
fallen leaves and needles covering lawns
as we walk past Grace Church, St. Mary’s school
stretching for blocks—a compact corpse rising
to life in a couple of hours. This cool
wind sends leaves and needles falling. They sing
so softly. Listen, love. Pause with me here.
Hear this crowded chorus performing its
near-silent chant. Should we two humans fear
its descending dance? Mounting deposits
of cells no longer flowing? We’re moving
as one now, slow, meditating, loving.
Roger Armbrust
November 21, 2010
