(four haiku and a tanka couplet refrain)
The flames slip across
the old wood in the fire pit.
I think of you.
My life trails behind
before I step into it.
I’ve been here before.
I am always here.
Today, I lost who I am:
I tripped on a root.
I see who you were
when I fell in love with you.
Forty years slip past.
A mountain is a mountain;
a river flows to the sea.
(October 31, 2021)
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