11-1-2015

I am still as young as
What I smell in Autumn,

And as old, work-tempered
As sugar maples

Out back;

Limerent
Leaves

Holding and

Sheathing, and

Wandering

In dreams

Streets
That late November
Ladles over the counties.

I've been counting windows
All night.

I've been realizing, knowing
Again, again.