Autumn Sequester

For a time, even the trees were inconsolable.

They, who had carved a life from structure—

building on root. Strange

how years later they come into focus. Wind picks

at their offspring & carries away

with little fanfare, but a flutter. This small green

island is

the past. I remember

so little except the axis turning. I didn't know her,

but I kept her grief in my sleeve.

Talisman. Verdict. On a small green island

death gathers

with the upstart force of physics. Fervor

& further. Was it just to see the crying?

We could manage so little. Even to speak

would belie

the massive heart.