by gerard sarnat
I. â€œFall Foliageâ€
Up an old familiar hill this October of my life,
I leave behind aches and coughs that hold me down,
turn off the phone, let go. Mountains nibble my head.
Returning deep deep inside, traveling
sun to clouds and back; honey and cocoa beans
ease my journey, remind of Passovers past.
Today’s the day the music stopped, the CD’s on the fritz.
It makes me glad to improvise: Dylan’s voice from
last night’s concert, my wise master’s Hebrew serenade.
I am nowhere and everywhere, no one, everyone.
This hollow body sheds ash to ash, dust to dust.
Windows cleansed, the forest’s seen more clearly.
Morning after, refreshed, energized,
I’m ready to live again â€¦
love, forgive — and die?