Walking the Path
We walk the path on a breezy autumn day. It is peak season. The sky, an energetic blue, decorated with pillow clouds. Colors vibrant and many: umber, russet, orange, burgundy, lemon yellow, tawny gold and colors for which I have no name.
one step at a time
our shadows merge
into one
Leaves loosen their hold on trees and zip across the path, some grazing us as with a dry brush. Passing a copse of spruce the wind give voice.
see Naples and die
the meaning arrives
with a rush of sound
Presence
