By Emily Lawrence Posted in Poetry No comments

among whispers and calls

the sallow leaves fall

with a noise akin to raindrops

heaving off trees

long after rains’ last fall

 

one by one they drop

adding to this song

to imbed into strata

becoming another

 

reflections and shadows

upon my paper

even as I walk away

you hold my print

contained in your skins

foils of another

 

you are the who of my words

the one that lives beyond

the scratch of pencil on paper

your language is not

typed in black lines on white pages

 

you are the unfathomable

the unknown

the mysteries contained

in mycorrhiza

 

for you have truly seen

you are the life

that evades the other

 

I cannot catch you

like shadow you move

a mirage of my own

uncontainable

indescribable

 

you are the totality

of all there is to know

the biosemiotics of all word

the macrocosm

of the entire

the absolute of

known and unknown