Monday, September 26, 2022


All across most 
of the northern hemisphere, 

dead leaves 
start to fall near the end 
of September, 

exerting, as they land 
on the cooling 
earth around here, 

a certain quiet, 
even pressure, 

a distinct but insinuated 
of that solitude—

of that placid desolation 
and patient 
loneliness ahead—

that no man or woman 
who walks out 
amid the scene 

can realize—
or realistically 

could ever hope 
to bear to—  

how exquisitely 
but tenuously 

all the rest 
just felt it too.