I read my sister’s story and looked
away and within

here
the leaves are falling
Walter comes each Monday and Wednesday
He sweeps them up to go in the bin.
Time after time we have hauled them to the compost pile.
Time after time he leaves the heavy wheelies at the curb.
It is a war we will not win,
not in a land where hedges are pruned
to lollipops.

This evening I walked through golden leaves
crunch and shuffle step
while softly, softly
they slipped and tumble fell
brushing my shoulder

8,000 miles apart
And softly, softly
Your words brushed my shoulder
And I turned
Looked away and within

And Kat I cried
To remember
Coming home
And setting scattered dreams
Back where they belonged
Touch log and stone
Let garden earth slip through my fingers
Gripped again the oars
Walked through forests
dark with spruce
Walked through forests
bright with birch and oak
Leaves all a-rustle
each a call to say
I am home.


I read my sister’s story and looked
away and within
And Kat I cried
To remember