photo of Adirondacks mountains by Jim Whie

I’m not who I was then

Yet it is

what

I am

To let the leaves fall

Reveal

What is left

Upon the soft dirt hills

& still

The fallen is part of this

Me

A star may see

Or not

Like eagle silhouette

For substance is absence

As pine tree enters flame

This creature

Reflected

Not me one bit

Yet all of

Me

In a hit.