Green

there comes a moment, usually in autumn,
when we first open up the windows while we sleep.

then somewhere in the night, we turn to feel
the perfect coolness of the summerless breeze,
and we wake just enough to acknowledge
the sweetness of that feeling.

a specific feeling.
a specific smell and taste,
like the way jam and butter together on toast
reminds me of my grandmother, so perfectly.

it is a lucidity of being,
a beauty so fleeting it cannot be caught,
only experienced and longed for.
it is the heart kissing life
then running coyly away.

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Filed under: Main on September 29th, 2007