Walnut Leaves

The walnut leaves
are frozen now,
mottled black
with failing
yellow stems.

Far below,
the earth
is strewn
with hands,
in death as rich
as fragrant satin gloves.

The wind comes,
my senses rise to let it in.

This is not the end,
it cannot, and will never be, the end.

November 6, 2006

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