So much has passed
through my mind,
gotten lost, or buried
in the litter of years,
in a drawer shut for so long
that when it was opened,
it exhaled a musty smell
as if an animal had once lived there.

Memories reveal
emotions that bind me,
rooted, yet constantly shifting
like grasses still tender and green
in the fields of October.
Shining in sunlight,
they tease and beckon
before the frosts.

In astonishing silence,
the bee lit on my lap,
its velvety coat striped
I meant to brush it off,
but changed my mind.
With the barest touch,
it rose up and away.