in the crisp breath of autumn,
transitory winter wave,
i find solace in my patchwork memories:

a quilt of warmth and his sweet hands
wrapped around a steaming mug
of coffee, tea, spices simmering

sipping silently the scent of pumpkin
or plum, rich and deep in hue
under a mound of blankets, i am enveloped

by those wind-blown shore walks
snapping photographs in inspired woods
found beaches and mailboxed secrets

field's retreat at dusk, a lone streetlight
flickers and embrace, lie watching
the sun set over grass and school alike

black ragged jacket and i am content
captured, when god's fingers reached down
and ripped the sky apart; this was when

we knew our time would come,
his hand plucking our broken humanness
out of sand and sea into brilliance beyond

like the horizontal tree buried
beneath full moon slung low
upright twisted beautiful – i recall

the emblazoned shroud of cold
steeped in crackling leaves and solitude
of becoming oneself in the mind of two

the whole, together,

and i stray.