Leaves

Written by Comfort Cat

all of these leaves start to fray like a photograph
all of these years start to fade like a phonograph
all these machines
ant and fly and an old giraffe
learning fast but
barely lasting
blinking
through the turning, churning lathe

begin to, begin to
belong to the still point of it all

all of these words kept for centuries apart
all that I burn wears forever my mark
why asking how asking when asking now
all resounding
all around the
still point of the yawning laughing night

begin to, begin to
belong to the still point of it all

all of my past is this faraway place
as my memories brown like a well-beloved face
I no longer feel even slightly afraid
I wasn’t made
to feel this for long
the weight of my sorrows can fit in a song

begin to, begin to
belong to the still point of it all

of it all,
of it all,
of

© 2019 Comfort Cat

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