The night the trees and I gathered
our leaves we shook
in the same directions,
night noises joining our wishes
of sharing neverending universes
and passages to the ending of our own,
the earth moving on without us
in bell curves of motion,
cycles of cycles streaming
around and over us endlessly,
drying of roots and stems,
brittleness under the grass
overcoming our leavings,
the pinpoint sum of our shadows
evaporating into eternity craving
more light, more and more light,
one more doorway at the edges
of deviations of days and nights
and spirits beyond fire and cold
over which the only control
was none of none but to sway
together and let go