Arcing into light
Soft footfall at daybreak,
Pushing on the open door.
Arcing into dark
Searching for fuel for warmth,
Closing the door
The last of the crab-apple leaves
Spinning wildly on their stems -
A sudden gust of wind.
Slipping into the cave for winter
Withdrawing the roots
Withdrawing the stems
Silence lit by a single flame.
Wind crossing open space
Bending grasses
Scattering the frost –
Receiving the gift of change.
How long ago it seems
That distance was closed
Corporeal tenderness unbound
Memory’s binding blessing -
Song of the birds at first light.
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