after so many years becoming
what i thought should come next
it was easy to lose track of the old quiet allies

the whole canyon shuddering
in the first moments of autumn

i saw that lonely old star
from the same place, on the same night
years later and realized that i feel happiest
when recalling winter

i should go back to seeing and speaking
with the harbor seals at shore;
their grey eyes and bodies the color of the sea