remembering
going door to door begging
for candy
remembering
going door to door begging
for candy
a downpour
of leaves like new fire
falling
thinking of dunes and
how the wind abrades sand and
how it must let it
birds have ever been
watching—but I never saw them
as waiting
what if all these
people sleeping in doorways
are fallen angels?
expect
little and do so much more
less
despite being told
to spot the landing before
leaping—my eyes close