the woods are quiet,
save for the lunge of a distant 18-wheeler.
green of summer slowly fades to brown.
chickadees chirp in the high canopy,
sausage sage wafts through swaying pines.
a lifetime of gratitude rises from this forest carpet.
gratitude and regret.
i discuss the weather with the jade,
call out to a passing tabby cat.
i’m surprised to find myself more or less intact.
after all the years.
after all the wars.
after all the pain.
surprised that I still can look into the sun and see joy.
surprised that the road has led me here, to this little clearing, in this little wood, to this porch, to this moment.
in a time not too far distant it will all be gone.
the mirror twists, I’ll find myself on a new horizon.
but for this moment, I am overcome with sweet surrender,
with my brimming cup of laughs and tears.
with my imprecise memory.
with my addled understanding.
it’s all here, in this coffee cup. the last world, this one, and the next.
It’s all here.