Or perhaps the breeze will gather
Autumn leaves into a mound
And invoke a final wish
To summon spirits deserted in the
darkness
Those who can listen will see
No meaning in flight of birds or sifting
clouds
All things settle in undulating simulation
spiraling in
Calibrated for inevitable upheaval
Lightest imprint of wild
footprints
Leave unbearable silence for eons
to ponder
