AUTUMN ADDRESS

I’ll wait for you on the slope of my old age,

too close to be much closer.

Two hearts, this paper flesh

tearing to embrace.

Yours hijacked once by emptiness,

your eye sockets deep as temple bowls,

their hollow silence drawing all my strength.

How leaves drift toward earth,

toward calm, time’s wooing.

That fir tree, its limbs in farewell,

grown taller than any,

taller than itself.

Thus nothingness settles on my lips.