I think I’ve safely
let go and now
I’m wintering out
the back end of a strange year.
A word with shadows and
it’s all apogee and ecstasy
when the sun warms my skin
and the air sings sinewy coffee melodies, exhales
“Let the seasons begin.” Looking back,
I see distance and everything is understandable–
tiny footprints, small kisses, short loves. This feels like
loss. Or does it
feel like reverence?