(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)